Filotheos
by AnimeWriterTycoonGirl
Summary: Gods come and go as they please while humans praise and worship them. The ancient Greeks, for example, consider it an honor to be paired with a god. For a poor olive farmer, the affections of an ancient and powerful deity changes his life forever. As for the deity, he is immensely pleased with his soulmate. Their story will craft new legends and change what you know about Greece.
1. Chapter 1

**AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: What up Bleach people? I'm back! Sorry AO fans….no sequel just yet. But I am proud to announce the beginnings of a brand new GrimmIchi story:** _ **Filótheos**_ **(** _ **The Loving God**_ **). I'm super excited to start this story; it's been floating around in my head for a while now. But first, I need to explain a few things.**

 **First, this story is taking place in an AU in the past. Gods (** _ **yes, plural**_ **) are quite real and show themselves quite often to the human world in order to remind them never to forget they exist. It's gonna be a ton of fun explaining how, why, and what types of gods there are but it'll take too long to describe in an author's note. I do explain some of it in this chapter, so you won't have to wait long.**

 **If anyone reading is religious (or unreligious), I apologize if any of my reasonings offend or annoy you, it is not my intention. I came up with a god story though, and I wanted to test it out. Eheheheh.**

 **Second, Ichigo's name is gonna be changed. The reason? He's not gonna be Japanese. Instead, he's gonna be Greek. Just roll with me on this one. And his new name is Isidore. It is pronounced liked S-E-Door. It's a real Greek name (trust me; I went crazy looking for male Greek names starting with** _ **I**_ **that I liked). The meaning behind it, if you don't know it's meaning already (no hard feelings if you don't), will be revealed later.**

 **Finally (and this is for your benefits as well as mine), it won't take twenty-four chapters to get to the sex scenes. It won't happen in the first chapter…but it's not gonna take three years to get these two to bump hips. I promise. That being said, I think we should get started! Enjoy everybody!**

 **Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Background Introductions…aka a kinda boring chapter but still important for the plot.**

 **Chapter I**

…..

It was a fine day in Greece indeed. The sun was bright and warm, high up above. Helios must be in an affable mood, thought Isidore with a smile. The young olive farmer allowed himself to bask in the warmth of the sun's rays before returning to the task at hand. Olives were a sacred fruit to the citizens of Kamarina, Crete. If the young farmer wanted to have a successful harvest, he needed to treat every tree with loving care.

Especially since the lovely and powerful Athena, who blessed the world with olives (among her many gifts), was his patron goddess. Isidore remembered the first time he was graced with the lovely warrior's presence. He had been a child of only ten summers, and his family had trekked all the way to the great city of Syracuse when he saw her.

Flawless rich colored skin that gleamed almost gold (as most god and goddesses were known to do) and pure black hair as dark as night. The graceful immortal had noticed his awe-struck expression and dignified him with a breathtaking smile. Even at his youthful age, Isidore had immediately chosen her as his personal patron for when he was old enough.

Isidore prayed every night to his goddess, asking for her blessings and strength. It was odd for a male his age to proclaim a goddess as his patron, leaving him to be ridiculed by many of his neighbors and even his friends. Sure, Athena was the goddess patron to many of the Crete islanders, but more often than not, men chose male gods for their personal patronage.

Isidore never meant to be any less masculine in his choice, he simply chose the one he admired. Still, it wasn't a stretch to think of the young farmer as feminine. The young farmer was lithe and slender, unlike many of his family, friends, and fellow men.

He was also jested for his unusually bright hair. In a world full of blonde, chocolate, and raven locks, Isidore was born with a startling shade of red-yellow. There was no other word to describe the odd shade, too light to be true red but too dark to be yellow*.

It had made many believe he was cursed, or held the soul of a demon. In his youth, the poor child had been subjected to cruel words and crueler touches. The endless teasing and abuse had hardened the young man.

Isidore breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He was dwelling on the past again. Now was not the time; he had a job to do.

"Isidore!" the young farmer jolted and turned in the voice's direction. Ah, it was his old friend, Claas. Despite his imposing size, Claas was a gentle giant. His darker skin betrayed an impure heritage, but his family has earned their rank through war and trade. Claas, however, did not go the way of his grandfather, father and brothers, and preferred to tend to animals for his keep.

The Spanish-Greek man smiled softly. "Athena has blessed you once more with a bountiful harvest, hasn't she?" he greeted, eyeing the few but vibrant trees that were full to bursting with olives.

Isidore's harvest was always anticipated each year, even though the young farmer only had a dozen trees in his keep. As his olives were the most delicious and worthy of sacrifice to the gods (namely Athena herself), his business flourished. Isidore was proud to say he was able to maintain himself and his family with only 12 olive trees, especially since he inherited only five trees at his grandfather's passing.

Said farmer looked to his crops with that same pride. "That she has. Have your goats and sheep proven fruitful as well?"

The large man nodded. "I gained many foal and kids this year. I will be able to retire my older animals soon."

Claas extended that gentleness among men to his animals as well. He never personally slaughtered his animals for meat, even for sacrifices to the gods.

To avoid displeasing the higher powers, Isidore always offered his own crops to the larger man, as a token of their friendship. In retribution, Claas traded cheese and wool.

Isidore plucked a damaged leaf out from a tree before turning back to his friend. "Oh? You're not planning on selling Herms to slaughter, are you?" he asked, slightly troubled. He had always liked the grouchy but reliable old goat.

Claas frowned. "Never! In fact, I was hoping to sell him to you." He insisted.

The farmer's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Sell him to me? Err…as much as I would like to, I don't have a lot of Tetradrachm** at the moment." He admitted quietly.

Though his olive harvest was always profitable, he had not yet taken his wares to market, which meant he was low on funds. Additionally, his mother had grown ill, and healers always charge extraordinary fees, even knowing it could cost lives.

Claas laughed. "I would never accept your money after everything you and your family has done for mine," he corrected, shaking his head. "I cannot keep trading cheese and wool for your olives every year. I might as well give you a goat for all your generosity. I merely ask for a larger supply of olives in return."

Isidore's mouth dropped open. Such a generous trade! Certainly, enough olives would be worth a goat, even an older one, but he knew his oldest friend wouldn't ask for full price.

Knowing Claas would refuse proper payment, Isidore sighed. "How many baskets would you like this year?" he asked in resignation.

The herder grinned, knowing he won the argument before it began. "Three more than usual. I would like to use some olives for myself and my family." He proposed.

Isidore hummed. Usually Claas was given two large baskets. With five baskets gone, Isidore would still have around 40 baskets to offer at the market, assuming his olive trees were extra bountiful this year. There was more than enough for this season to be profitable, so he agreed without further hesitation.

"And it would be nice to have Herms as extra help pulling the baskets this year. Not to mention scare away pests." He reasoned even after he had already agreed to the deal.

Claas nodded. "Well said. Speaking of help, how is your mother?"

Here, Isidore's eyes dimmed. "She has not been recovering. The healers do not know what ails her. The sickness is not physical, and she has no fever or chills, so we cannot understand why she lies so ill." He sighed in frustration. "I plan to offer a strong prayer to Apollo to heal her after I pray for wisdom from Athena." He explained.

Claas remained silent. Everyone knew the gods were not benevolent beings. Any assistance to humans was a whimsical desire to, or out of sheer boredom. This did not apply to the more violent gods, who made a great sport out of driving humans to war or wicked motives.

But for Apollo to hear Isidore's wish…it seemed unlikely. His personal patron god listened more to prayers of the herd or even music before his lesser interest of healing. But the larger man could never say as much to his friend, who clung to that glimmer of hope.

After a while though he cracked a weak grin. "Perhaps it would also be wise to pray to Asclepius as well. He is the son of the very god of healing, and is well praised for his healing in medicine." He offered gently.

Now it was Isidore's turn to present a small smile. "Perhaps I shall. I thank you for your kind consideration Claas. I'll let mother know you asked about her." He promised.

A warmer smile graced the gentle giant. "See that you do." He nodded towards the valuable trees. "When would be a good time to make our usual trade?" he asked. It was almost that time in the season where sacrifices will be made to the gods.

Isidore plucked an olive from a nearby branch, and popped it into his mouth. Chewing softly, he tested the ripeness of the fruit. "Very soon. Perhaps within two days."

"Good to hear. I will bring Herms with me then. After our trade, are you planning to head to the central market?" he asked, shifting to a causal topic.

Isidore rolled his eyes. "Of course I am Claas; what good is hundreds upon hundreds of olives if they are not sold before the taste festers?" he scowled, but no annoyance actually showed in the expression.

Isidore didn't like going to the market, despite his success there. He preferred to be the one growing the olives and let his father do the exhausting task of selling the fruits, having a natural flair for socializing and bartering. Isidore's dour and argumentative nature, along with his strange appearance, clashed with customers wanting to haggle.

Claas laughed and shook his head. "You poor man…forced to socialize and endure the big city. Oh, how horrid your life is!" he joked, ruffling his smaller friend's bright hair, knowing fully well it would irritate his best friend.

As expected, the fiery temper revealed itself and Isidore was hurling insults and shoving the larger man off of him, much to Claas' amusement and his exasperation.

"Tch…don't you have a flock or sows to tend to?" he griped, shaking his hair back to the unruly style he preferred.

The Spanish blooded man chuckled. "I suppose I do…but in all honesty Isidore…shouldn't you be considering starting your own family? Your family depends on you yes, but a wife would relieve the burden of taking care of your mother and sisters." He opened carefully, knowing this was a touchy subject for the youth.

Isidore sighed, and all anger left, leaving an exhausted, unmotivated man. "…I'm too poor for any woman to consider offering dowries Claas, let alone find a woman who isn't appalled by my strange colored hair. I'm aware of the possibility I could remain unmarried. I resign myself to it really. Even you with your mixed blood make a better suitor…and it was proved was it not?" he pointed out, no disgust in his voice about his friend being only half Greek.

Claas had met his bride a few months ago, and she was a beautiful thing too. Bronze skin and dark hair that looked well next to his own, Claas was going to wed her at the beginning of Gamelion***, hoping to gaining the powerful Hera's blessing. Isidore was happy for his friend, he truly was, but he was reminded of his unlikelihood to ever obtain a wife.

His father had tried, arranging meetings with several fathers of unmarried girls. But father and daughter were unwilling to offer a dowry for such a strange looking individual. It was a huge shame for a family to be unable to pass the heritage along to a new generation. Even with his two sisters, who stood a far better chance of marrying, the linage would stop at him, as the rest of his father's family bore no sons who survived childhood.

Claas was silent for several moments. "Perhaps you will be surprised Isidore…there is someone for everyone. Even someone for you." He placated, even though he knew his friend wouldn't listen.

Isidore snorted, turning his back and taking extra interest in a tree that didn't need it. "I can only pray so Claas...I'll see you around." He parted for the both of them, listening as the other man left. The young farmer slumped forward, resting his forehead on the tree. "Someone for everyone huh…even someone like me? A miracle from the gods would be needed for me to find a person like that." He muttered to himself, convinced he would never have a partner to spend the rest of his days.

Little did he know…a child god overheard his misery and had the perfect… _being_ in mind for this poor farmer.

…

Meanwhile, in the heavens above resting atop sacred Mount Olympus, the gods and demigods enjoyed their days humoring themselves at the humans' expenses and their own. The truly powerful gods and goddesses enjoyed a life of glamour and luxury; while lesser gods and goddesses still enjoyed the perks and spoils of immortality, they were still at the mercy of the powerful gods and the Fates. Of course, the Fates were even more powerful than the gods, and all feared them.

Which is why it had been a huge shock to every being, immortal or not, when the Fates revealed themselves to the mortal world. Assuming it had been a fickle desire, the gods waited to see why the sisters would do such a thing.

The Fates explained themselves to all, mortal and immortal, that they wanted to ensure humans knew the gods and the Fates existed, insulted by a human man's attempt to defy the gods with (considerable) mortal logic. The man accused was banished to Hades' domain. They demanded the gods reveal themselves to humanity to avoid such displeasures ever again.

The immortals found themselves enjoying the attention gained from the lowly humans, and made a habit of showing themselves at random if they felt they were being forgotten or not treated with enough respect. Especially since the Fates revealed the true reason behind their revelation after the humans were satisfied with the reason they were given.

After the creation of the universe and humanity, without realizing it, some of the mystic and ancient energy that keep the gods and immortals from aging and enjoying their powers was accidentally dispersed into the human world, and therefore, even the humans had powers, albeit weak ones…though a small few could harness some abilities. However, the power they unwittingly gained, had a horrendous effect on the gods; should enough people stop believing in the power of the gods, their existence would cease. Humans…had the power to control the existence of the gods.

The idea had been frightening to the almighty gods and goddesses, who had protested, and schemed to control the humans, making sure they always believed and therefore the gods would live on for eternity.

The Fates and the ancient gods, the ones who had created universe and the gods threatening this plan, put an end to the plot before it could begin. It was the primordial gods who had accidentally sent the power of belief among the budding humanity. While they would not feel the consequences if people forgot about them – being removed from the curse as they created it – the ancient ones felt responsible, yet knew taking away free will would inevitably bring that end of existence they all feared.

Reluctant, but not willingly to sacrifice their own lives, the gods agreed to keep their powers and immortality by gracing their presence throughout the ages. They created their own stories for the humans, to be shared as their legacies. Though, none of their stories were the same for the hundreds of cultures across the world, as they changed things as they saw how certain cultures depicted them.

This reflected in their appearance. Though many gods and goddesses stuck to what they considered their general shape and gender, some were whimsical and decided to change their appearance into that of animal like creatures, alter their general appearance, or change their gender depending on what culture was worshipping them.

The gods drew lots about what god would present themselves as what in those cultures. Gods of many powers could cast lesser gods as the wielder of one of those powers, since there were so many lesser gods who could gain some followers for the true owner of those powers. Some gods didn't exist at all in some cultures, but that was fine; because they had more than enough believers in others.

Only a few gods were granted a fantastic lot which would allow them to be seen as 'the one true almighty god', but those cultures held no traction compared to the hundreds of others. And of course, this was lessened in greatness whenever a human from a monotheistic religion witnessed a god from another culture, and more often than not, renounced their religion for the dozens or even hundreds of gods of another religion.

Though the primordial gods had no reason to, even they engaged in revealing themselves to the humans, as it was a decent pastime besides creating more gods and beings into the world. Over time, many of the ancient gods blended themselves among the regular gods, and though they weren't forgotten by themselves and the Fates, they had created enough of a new persona of their powers to be ignored by their children and newer gods.

The gods had many locations or hidden portals where they could slip in and out of the mortal world. For the Greeks, it was Mount Olympus; Egyptians the Nile; Japanese the many sacred mountains; the cultures in the west, undiscovered by the eastern world, witnessed the gods as animal gods, so they took an animal form they liked and revealed themselves from that. The list went on for the hundreds of nations and cultures around the world.

So, with the world literally at their fingertips, the gods enjoyed endless entertainment. Either from their own gifts among one another or the various interactions with mortals, the immortals kept themselves busy.

Those interactions were not limited to merely showing off their greatness and powers to the mortals. Some gods had romantic liaisons with particularly beautiful humans, and lavished them with gifts or even granted them immortality and become their consorts. Such actions were not frowned upon by most of the gods, especially if those lovers were going to end up immortal too.

However, there were a small group of gods who sneered at the notion of romanticizing with humans. Whether through jealousy or genuine disgust at the idea, gods who did frown upon the idea exist.

There were no rules saying gods couldn't interfere with the lovers of gods however, and this led to many famous tales of gods doing just that to one another. There was one rule though. One that none of the gods sought to break after the last true clash among them, which had been about who was the most powerful god.

Gods…could not kill other gods before it was their time.

Deicide hasn't happened since the Power War, and that had been before the rule. No one but the Fates knew what the punishment was for such a crime, and no one wanted to find out.

Gods who ruled over death of any kind did have the powerful to kill gods, yes, but they could only do so under the order of the Fates. Only the Fates knew when the death of the gods would come. Only the Fates could authorize the death of an immortal or god.

Since the Fates isolated themselves ever since first revealing themselves to the mortals, the gods could not infer when their demise would come. But, since they were allotted such a substantial amount of life, they lived lavishly and proudly. They couldn't waste their thousands of years – potentially millions if they were lucky – in fear of a realm several of their own ruled.

Rumor had it gods who died in the Power War were not simply erased from existence, but were merely trapped in a world of their own memories, unable to escape or interact with anyone of the living or dead until they were at last reincarnated, having their own special realm in the underworld. The death gods refused to say a word about it, sworn to secrecy by the Fates.

This of course had only caused the rumors to begin with, but even a death like that couldn't be too frightening, going through their own lives over and over again could get monotonous, but with a large enough lifespan, they'd only repeat their lives a couple of times before being erased and reborn as either a mortal or a new god.

So, life in the heavens remained carefree and whimsical.

…

It was a quiet day in the heavens when a child goddess zipped through excitedly, eager to share her news with the one god she simply couldn't find.

Huffing, the little pink haired goddess known in Greece as Hebe – the goddess of youth – turned to some of the older gods, asking about his whereabouts and insisting it was important. The kind god of luck and opportunity told her where he last saw the god she's searching for, and with a happy grin, Hebe – or Yachiru as she liked to be called in the heavens – headed towards an even more serene part of the heavens.

Even though most gods named themselves for the mortals, there were names they preferred to call themselves in the heavens. Yachiru overheard the name while tending to the wishes of children in the Far East, and claimed the name for herself immediately after. Her original name was forgotten by all, even herself.

Flying through the beautiful multi colored forest, she finally found him.

"Grimmy! There you are! I was looking allllll over for you!" she pouted once she came across the – formerly – resting god.

The blue haired god cracked an eye open lazily, grunted something unintelligible, and turned the over way, intent on continuing his nap and ignoring the always energetic little god.

Yachiru didn't like that, and began to cry loudly. "I came all this way looking for you and you won't even bother to listen to what I have to say. Grimmjow, you're so meeeaaaannn!" she cried out.

Letting out a loud groan, the god pulled himself up reluctantly and gently bopped her on the top. "Oi, quite crying…you know tears only annoy me. What's so damn important you couldn't wait for me to finish my nap?" he sighed, fully expecting the little girl to tell him something trivial or just weird. As the goddess of youth and often associated with children, the little girl had a strange imagination.

Wiping her tears away, the girl's immortality revived her appearance before she had started crying, and she brightened up. "It's really, really important! I think I found your soulmate!" she insisted.

Grimmjow stiffened. "What are you talking about?" he asked, admittingly interested. Gods don't throw the word soulmate around carelessly, even the children gods.

Soulmates were a truly precious thing, and once found, a god coveted them immediately. The problem was, the god often wasn't the one to find their soulmate, due to the Fates deciding gods had to work to find their true love like mortals did as a means of keeping them humble…somewhat.

Yachiru nodded vigorously. "I mean it! Amara told me all about how to tell how a soulmate belongs to a god, and he fits it!" she explained…poorly…as children were often capable of.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. Despite hearing very little about his supposed soulmate (a man huh? Who knew?) it was worth listening to. Amara was what the Greeks called Aphrodite; if anyone knew something about soulmates, it was the goddess of love herself.

"Well? Is that really all you're going to say? Not even where I can find my supposed mate?" he asked, realizing Yachiru didn't know she hadn't shared enough details.

With a small blush that comes from forgetting something important, Yachiru looked at him seriously. "He's a mortal olive farmer in Kamarina. I know he was your soulmate because I could see a faint signature of your aura around him." She revealed.

Mortal soulmates of the gods had the signature of their intended attached to them since birth, though they and other mortals could not see it. Any god could see the signatures if they looked hard enough, but it was not their responsibility to inform the owner of that specific aura. It was an act of kindness, not obligatory. Yachiru was an exception to the rule; her childlike mind believing everyone should be happy, and it was her responsibility to bring that happiness.

Grimmjow hummed and leaned forward. "Really? You're sure it's my signature? Show me what he looks like." He commanded, all thoughts of this being a waste of time gone. Every god and goddess _dreamed_ of the day they would find their beloved. To think it might be his turn. Even if it was a mortal man.

As she was far below him in rank, she couldn't complain about him bossing her around. Concentrating on the memory of the pretty farmer, she conjured the image in front of the older god.

Isidore was shown frozen with a relaxed look as he tended to his olive trees with obvious care. Grimmjow was surprised by his shock of _orange_ hair, which was unheard of in Greece. He couldn't deny the sudden urge to reach out and touch the face of the young farmer, or the flames of desire igniting within him.

There was no denying it. This mortal was definitely his soulmate.

A wide grin stretched across his face. "Unbelievable…to think I'd get such a pretty face to call mine. How lucky am I?" he asked rhetorically, his eyes gleaming with determination.

Yachiru pouted then. "Ne…Grimmy…please be careful with him. I overheard him talking to a friend, and he's sad. A family member is sick, and he is convinced he'll be alone for the rest of his life because of his appearance." She warned. She knew that grin. Grimmjow looked ready to devour that innocent farmer.

Grimmjow grunted to show he heard her, but his eyes were completely focused on the farmer. "What's his name?" he asked, realizing he lacked a name to match the beautiful face.

The goddess frowned, but at least he acknowledged her. "Isidore…I think. I never heard a last name." she explained.

"Isidore." He tested it out on his tongue, and chuckled. What a fitting name. "Isidore…I like it." he said with that same grin, before tearing his eyes away to ruffled Yachiru's hair. "You did well Yachi…thank you. I'll make you something nice as a show of my appreciation." He promised sincerely with a much kinder smile.

Yachiru blushed but smiled happily, the image disappearing. "Could…could you make me some sweets?" she asked shyly. The child goddess had an enormous fondness for sweets.

Grimmjow let out a booming laugh at her request. "That's not generally my specialty…but I'll see what I can do." He assured her. He should have known the pink haired girl would want candy of all things. "Go find Nellia or someone else to play with. I'm going to gain as much information as I can about my soulmate before I approach him properly." He announced.

Yachiru frowned. "Uuuuu…but I never caught his last name! You could be looking forever!" she protested.

Grimmjow let out another bark of laughter as he stood to full height. "How many people have orange hair in Greece? I doubt he'll be hard to find. Don't act worried for me and go back to the kiddie play you're used to." He flashed a grin, and slipped through a portal to the All-Knowing Library, leaving a pouting Yachiru behind.

The All-Knowing Library held the records of every human, god, or immortal who ever lived thus far. The inside of this establishment was infinite, a testament to the ever-growing population of the three species. The Library was created as a place of records and a hall for gods to study about particular mortals who caught their interest…similar or non-similar to Isidore's case.

The blue haired god found the Greek hall with little difficulty, and was satisfied to see Kamarina had a small population, finding his beloved's scroll within minutes.

His lip curled upon discovering his soulmate had suffered much worse than loneliness. Cruel beatings and forced isolation tormented his beautiful farmer. But as much as he'd like to call upon Kheth – Ares – to destroy the worthless mortals who tortured his Isidore – and damn wasn't it a thrill to call the human _his_ already – acting too violently could scare his mate away. There was also the risk of annoying the other gods. He had no interest in getting caught in the middle of a petty argument among his kin.

There was also the concern about coming off too strongly in front of his soulmate. A god or goddess tended to fall in love immediately the moment they came across their soulmate. That generally wasn't the case for mortals, who could be scared off by strong approaches. That was the last thing Grimmjow.

Ah, but any advances he made would be immediately scrutinized after so many years of being harassed and rejected. He reconsidered the notion of punishing the cattle who dared to harass what was his. Oh…how tempting it was…but he couldn't frighten poor Isidore away. Bless that child Yachiru for warning him ahead of time.

He needed a new name too. Grimmjow was the name he gave himself, but it would make little sense in Greece. To resolve this, he poured over common names for the area. It wasn't easy; he needed something that fit him, something he could utilize without giving away his immortality.

It took longer than he would have liked, but finally the stubborn god found a relatively normal name, and one he wouldn't mind being called. Unlike most gods, he didn't go down to Greece often, and had forgotten the names he had used before. And after a few moments of thinking it over, he really didn't remember the appearance he used there either.

Grimmjow sighed. If his soulmate didn't recognize the efforts he was putting into this later, once he revealed himself fully, he'd be insulted. It also reminded him just how little effort he's put into this particular culture, which is a shame since his role was still important in any culture…at least the ones he chose to do. But he didn't even come close to being the laziest god out there, leaving him only put out at the effort he'd have to do in order to remind the mortals in Greece of his presence.

Damn…sometimes it really sucked being the god of both light and darkness.

…

 **AN: I think this is a pretty good place to stop right? I introduced both main characters, the plot is set (kinda…there's middle parts I wanna work on) and information was given. I'm pretty proud of myself for being able to come up with some of the information without relying too much on the internet.**

 **Like how I incorporated Bleach characters into the story? In case it wasn't obvious, the kind god of luck and opportunity I designated to Jushiro Ukitake. It doesn't take much to figure out some characters are going to fit their roles…REALLY well. My best friend and I spent an afternoon thinking up who would be who in my Greek Bleach fic. Some came easily (virtual cookie to anyone who can guess who Ares' character is played by), and others were a bit harder (like the blacksmith god who I am totally too lazy to look up his name right now).**

 **I also wanted to stay away from making it too obvious who the characters are. So only a handful (and I mean a really small handful) of characters are going to keep their names from the show. Yachiru kept hers because I really didn't know what type of cute name would work for her, and Grimmjow's name is just too awesome to not use.**

 **And while I promised sex would happen much sooner in this story, it's still going to be at least a few chapters. Grimmjow fell head over heels due to the excitement of finding his soulmate, but Isidore is not going to be swept off his feet right away, especially since he's still so insecure.**

 **By the way, I did an extraordinary amount of research into ancient Greek life, and though I'm planning on attempting to be as accurate as possible, there are some aspects I will ignore (such as tiny dicks being attractive…because seriously: What. The. Fuck.) If anyone reading is a professional in this field and I made some careless mistakes, please don't hesitate to message me.**

 **I won't lie; getting chapters out is going to be hard. I really, really don't know when I'll have time to write up more chapters. Please don't be discouraged, I just don't want people checking for updates often…since I know I likely won't be able to.**

 **But, in the meantime, please tell me what you think of this new story. I'm always open to new suggestions. Have a great day!**

 **Ciao~!**

 **P.S.**

 *** The color orange does not exist yet in BCE. In fact, the color itself wasn't established until the late 15** **th** **century/early 16** **th** **century. Grimmjow knows what orange is because I'm pretty sure gods are more advanced than humans and I'm also sure they'd be able to see more colors than humans can anyways.**

 **** Tetradrachm is money from that time period (I think)**

 *****Gamelion takes place during the modern month of January.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: What's this? Two chapters in a row? Is this really happening?! Well it is! I decided since there's a huge chance I won't be able to free-write like I'd love to (I do…really!), I am churning out the first two.**

 **I hope you were interested enough, even though the first chapter was pretty slow. This chapter is definitely move faster. Grimmjow and Isidore meet! However, Grimmjow isn't going to be known as Grimmjow for a while after they do. It took me a long…long ass time finding a good name for our favorite blue haired hollow, so please bear with me.**

 **Grimmjow's new Greek name is Mikolas. Pronounce it as ME-CO-LASS. It's not a super hard name, and I think it might have been rather common, but it sounded better than the rest I came up with (Trust me…at one point I looked at Ahellona; meaning masculine). Both meanings for Isidore and Mikolas will be revealed in this chapter. So, let's get this chapter going!**

 **Chapter Warnings: Slight Stalking, Flirty Grimmjow/Mikolas, Swearing, Mild Angst at the beginning; First Date! (Unknown to Isidore)**

 **Chapter II**

….

After Claas left, Isidore spent longer than he really needed tending to the olive trees that afternoon. He felt awful, knowing he would likely never find a wife for himself. As he tried to recollect himself, he felt even worse upon entering his family's house, because his mother continued to show no signs of recovering.

Mannara laid on the cot as weak as ever, with no noticeably symptoms, as usual. Her once expressive face, known for her smile that had shone like her namesake, was gaunt and blank. His youngest sister Yalena look at him with tears in her eyes. His other sister Karin refused to look at anyone as she placed a cool cloth on her mother's forehead. Their father, Iason, was nowhere to be seen.

Motioning to Yalena, the two headed to the courtyard. "She's getting worse, isn't she?" Isidore pressed, worried for his mother but knowing there was nothing he could personally do for her.

Yalena shook her head. "Nothing is working. She keeps losing weight and loses her stomach contents all the times. I've prayed and prayed to Apollo. Why won't he listen to our prayers?" tears spilled over her cheeks.

Isidore sighed heavily, embracing his sister as she sobbed. This sickness was taking a toll on the entire family. Iason was spending as much money as he could spare on learning how to be a healer, convinced if anyone could heal his wife, it was him. Yalena was already working as hard as she could to make their mother as comfortable as she could. Both girls worked hard to make up for the chores Mannara couldn't complete anymore.

He pulled away to grasp at her shoulders. "We're not giving up! If Apollo won't hear us, we'll pray to other gods. Asclepius, the god of medicine, Hecate the witch, or Caerus for luck! I'm not going to let her waste away like this!" Isidore insisted, dark eyes bright with determination.

Yalena wiped her tears. "But still…big brother…momma is in pain. I don't want to see her like this. Anything but this!" she whimpered. "I'll…try to pray to those three…but why Hecate? Wouldn't a witch goddess only make things worse?" she asked, sniffing.

Isidore sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "But even a witch hearing our prayer is better than calling out to no one. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to cure her illness. I'll put Atlas into retirement, or Prometheus if I have to!" he said with strong conviction.

Yalena gasped. "No! Momma wouldn't want to live in a world where your liver is eaten every day! Neither would I! Please, Isidore, there has to be another way!" she begged, tears forming again.

Her older brother was silent. He truly didn't know what to do if the gods wouldn't help. They had no reason to help a lowly farmer and his family. His patron goddess was not known for her healing. She couldn't help him if he begged her; it wasn't in her power.

Isidore sighed again. "I won't promise anything Ya-ya. I can't." He admitted, hoping her favorite nickname would make it sting a little less. Yalena wiped her eyes, but she couldn't say a word back. She was just as clueless about how to heal their mother. "Papa will be back from his training tonight. Maybe he can make her feel better?" she tried, a little hope in her voice.

Again, Isidore said nothing, not wanting to crush her fragile hopes. He only offered a weak smile and headed inside to help with the other chores while their father was out.

…..

Meanwhile, Grimmjow had heard and seen everything, even what was unsaid between the siblings. Now that he knew Isidore was his soulmate, he had snuck in using darkness to conceal himself. The matron of the house really was sick, and from the looks of her, she had less than a month left if nothing was done. He couldn't possibly court his beloved if he was mourning the loss of his loved one, especially when he would be furious later for not being able to save her after revealing himself.

He thought about healing her himself to give her more time. But his healing powers were pretty weak, and was mostly used to treat his own wounds, not mortal ones. And he definitely knew the gods they spoke of; any one of the mentioned gods or goddess had immense healing powers (even the god of luck, because it could count as a miracle). But if he had to choose just one of them, it was easily Asclepius – or Jinn as he knew her – who was best for the job. Besides, the brilliant but clumsy god owed him plenty of favors.

Come to think of it, there was plenty of gods who owed him something. This could work to his advantage when he needed something to impress his soulmate while he paraded as a human himself. To be honest he was a little excited to try it out. He was beginning to grow bored of the luxuries above. Sure, there were plenty, but he wasn't a very social god, which limited him. Perhaps that would change once Isidore was made into an immortal. Given his less than social nature as a mortal though, perhaps they would merely be antisocial together. And wasn't that just beautiful?

He shook himself back to reality when he realized his soulmate was leaving the small house. Thank the heavens, the atmosphere was depressing. With confidence in his plans, the primordial god of light and darkness followed his mortal half.

He was back to tending his olives. Grimmjow had to give him credit, the man took pride in his work. And Athena – Sunnera – bragged about the magnificent olives she is gifted every year. Clearly, the woman knew who grew those olives and blessed him with harvest every year. Sunnera was indeed limited though, and the goddess of wisdom knew she wasn't qualified to heal her favorite farmer's mother.

And that arrogant little shit Apollo…he definitely could have healed her…but Mr. Sun God didn't care much for helping mortals heal. Grimmjow never liked the bastard, but then again, the feeling was mutual. Apollo (and yeah, the little shit preferred that name, fucking narcissist) never liked the god of darkness; it came with holding the power of the sun. He wouldn't lift a finger for the older god without pressure from the Fates.

Which is why he felt confident to ask Jinn. She was a remarkable healer, and kinder to Grimmjow to boot. Her healing powers rivaled Apollo's, and in fact, was responsible for most of his 'healing miracles.' Of course, the sun god took the credit. Dick.

Grimmjow was jolted out of his less than savory thoughts by a melodious sound. His little farmer was humming as he worked. The god stood still, transfixed by the gentle harmony.

Isidore, bless his heart, was unaware of his audience as he diligently tended his trees. Humming helped him tune out the misery in his life, but he wouldn't dare sing in front of anyone else; he'd be too humiliated. And it wasn't exactly manly to sing either.

Man and god spent the rest of the afternoon sun like that; Isidore humming softly as he worked and Grimmjow staring as he did so, all while hidden in the shadows.

Once the sun started to set low in the sky, Isidore packed his things and headed back to the house. Grimmjow naturally followed.

Mannara was awake, and calmly peeled the carrots from her sick bed, while the twins cooked the fish. It appeared Iason was home too; mixing something with a mortar-pestle.

"What is that, Father?" Isidore asked, washing his hands and feet in the basin by the door.

The man grinned. "A new cure! The other healers and I have seen a lot of success with this paste lately, and I feel it will be the beginning towards the path to recovery!" he stopped his work and clasped his wife's hands, carefully avoiding the crude knife. "Mannara darling, I promised I'd be the one to take away your pain, and by the gods it will happen." He declared boldly.

Grimmjow gave the man credit. That determination of his was refreshing compared to the misery plenty mortals wallowed in, and he made a note to himself to reward the man somehow for that. He was the god of light as well, and dedication was a (minor) aspect of his power. Not to mention, he had to reward the parents who brought his beloved into the world. Not that any of the mortals here were aware of such a feat.

Isidore smiled weakly. "That's excellent news father. I will pray for it's quick success tonight." He promised sincerely. Grimmjow noticed a speck of hope in his voice.

Iason smiled brightly. "Thanks, Isidore…I appreciate your support. How goes the harvest?" he asked, waiting for his son to put his tools away.

The farmer nodded as he placed his tools in the hand carved box by the door. "Athena smiled down on us yet again; I will need two oxen to cart to the big city." He explained.

Yalena's eyes widened. "So much! Will you be able to sell it all?" she asked.

Isidore's expression became more confident, allowing the god to see the similarities between father and son. "I swear I will. This year has been very bountiful for Crete, and I see no reason why wealthy patrons will not want to please the gods yet again. My olives are the best in the market every year Yaya." He boasted.

His mother put down her tools to look up at him. "Is Claas going to loan you the animals again? He's such a generous herder." She praised quietly before smiling at him. "And you are an excellent farmer Isidore. You should be very proud of yourself." She added warmly.

Isidore felt a surge of pride at his mother's praise. Indeed, it had been hard work to grow the olives himself. He ducked his head in shyness afterwards. "Thank you, mother. I do the best I can every year." he answered honestly.

Iason stroked his well-kept beard. "When do you head out for the market in Syracuse? It should take you several days even with two oxen." He pointed out.

Meanwhile, Grimmjow grinned at the unexpectedly helpful information. Syracuse huh? A perfect place to approach his soulmate without appearing suspicious. He truly could not have come at a more convenient time.

Isidore hummed. "Well, the olive oil the twins helped me made in the spring should be ready to sell, so if everything goes smoothly the next few days I'll leave before the next white moon."

 _Five days_ , Grimmjow thought to himself. Five days until the next full moon, and then Isidore will be off to Syracuse. It would not be a short ride for the mortal; even by cattle back it would take two days with a heavy cart and oxen to rest, water and feed, and the farmer would need the same. That was fine; he could wait one more week. He had been waiting for ages for the chance to find his soulmate, and he wasn't going to let anything get in his way.

The humans processed the same information, and they assured the young farmer they would be fine while he was in Syracuse.

"We'll pack you some meals so you won't be hungry during the ride!" Yalena promised.

Karin shrugged. "I'll gather extra water in the next few days so you and the oxen don't go thirsty either." She offered, which was very generous of the quiet girl. She could not hide her dislike for gathering water, but it was a woman's job, and their mother simply couldn't handle the task anymore.

"Ahahaha! Look how well cared for you are by your sisters!" Iason guffawed with a large grin. "I'll help seal up the fruits and oils so you can work on your cart. It's going to need some repair before you make the trip." He offered.

Like most things in their name, the cart used to sell their olives was older and often needed work before use, only to break down again afterwards.

Isidore sighed. "We have a lot of olives and oil this year. perhaps it is time to sell the old cart and buy a new one." He suggested, though the looks on his parents' faces said they simply couldn't afford a new cart.

Karin huffed. "I'd build us a new cart if I was allowed to purchase the supplies." She grumbled. Surprising as it was, she was an excellent carpenter. She had been taught by her eccentric grandfather, who saw the talent in her despite being a girl. As it were though, it was near impossible for anyone to take her seriously as a craftswoman, and went to male carpenters instead.

Iason gave her a gentle look. "Karin, honey, you know we couldn't afford the wood needed for a new cart. If anything, it's more likely your brother will have to trade in the old cart for supplies anyways. It's incredibly old as it is." He reasoned calmly, grinding the paste once again.

The girl grumbled and went back to her cooking.

Grimmjow listened to all of this with an amused smile. These mortals had no idea just how much their lives would change. He could give them chariots made of gold and a house made of marble. Karin would be able to work in her true craft with no complaints as she'd have the wealth to perform the craft.

Either way, Isidore's family would be well cared for in gratitude for the beautiful man he'd call his own.

He was brought out of his musings to see the men being served their meals while the women cooked their own. Isidore took a small sip of his wine before speaking again.

"Claas is trading one of his older goats, Herms, in exchange for three additional baskets this year." he explained to his father.

Iason dropped his food in surprise. "Five baskets of olives are nowhere near enough for a goat! Isidore, you have to offer him something more." He pressed, a frown on his face.

Isidore sighed. "I tried, I truly did. He wouldn't accept; claiming Herms was too old to be worth more than five baskets of olives. You know how that man is; stubborn as the bulls and goats he tends." He pointed out, calmly eating his dinner.

Iason stroked his beard again. "Well, it would be profitable to have a goat. He could give us cheese and wool for the cooler months. When will the lad be here for the trade?" he asked, knowing it was pointless to argue the trade; it was incredibly generous given their lack of wealth.

"Tomorrow. We'll do our annual exchange as usual with Herms as an addition."

"I see. Well, there is hope for our family to prosper then. Having animals is good for the household." Iason reasoned, though to who wasn't specified.

Yalena giggled. "I can't wait to see Herms. He's such a good animal." She praised.

Karin made a face. "You and Isidore are the only ones who the old goat doesn't bother. Dumb goat." She grumbled to herself.

Mannara tutted softly. "Now Karin, you just need a gentle touch when it comes to older animals. Herms needs more care in his advanced age. I daresay he is more stubborn than you." She teased.

Everyone laughed, even Karin despite her pout afterwards. The men finished their meals and the women ate their own soon after as the sun fully set.

Grimmjow's power over darkness did not require him to actually be there to drive Apollo out. Contrary to what the mortals thought, the world was round, otherwise it would have been a never-ending, exhaustive chase between the two rivals. So, he had time to continue learning about his mortal.

The girls helped their mother to her chamber after cleaning up from the meal, and Isidore took to the second floor of the house to get to his room. He sighed as he got into prayer position; with hands stretched to the sky for the gods who resided in the heavens.

"I call upon the generosity of Asclepius, god of healing and medicine, the healer, and Caerus of luck and opportunity, the miracle worker. I am poor, and cannot offer much to you, oh powerful gods residing in Olympus. But I can offer my devotion to you, whomever is gracious enough to heal my mother's illness. I will be kinder to my fellow man in gratitude of your gift. I will offer all of this, so I beg you for help in her recovery. Please spare my mother, who is the heart of this home. Your gift would be praised and paid for in exceptional sacrifices. Please…" and here Isidore faltered. "Give us a sign that you have heard my prayer. I shall be forever in your debt."

Grimmjow was moved by his soulmate's prayers. To be so selfless as to offer his devotion to the god who heard him and granted his wish. Well, that brought an idea to the god, one that would ensure the man fell hopelessly in love with him.

He waited patiently as the young man added prayers to his patron and for the paste to work (a committed man to boot) and finally fell into his bed, asleep within minutes.

Grimmjow removed himself from the shadows and carefully placed a hand over the mortal's eyes. Then, he began to speak.

"I hear you, Child of Man, in your plea for assistance for the sake of a loved one." He said, his ultramarine eyes glowing bright and his voice took on the unnatural echo that followed when speaking to humans as a god.

Isidore's breath hitched, but remained in his slumber. "I thank you…I thank you wholly and mostly humbly for listening to this lowly mortal's pleas. To whom is my gratitude for hearing my prayer?" he asked, breathless as he looked to the shadows of his dream, unable to see the deity who answered him.

Grimmjow smiled to himself as the dream logged human searched for him. "I am Aether, god of light and atmosphere." He replied, showing his form to the farmer, relishing in his shock and awe.

Isidore fell to his knees immediately to show respect. "I thank you sincerely from the bottom of my heart, Aether of light and atmosphere." He looked to his beautiful form with hope in his eyes. "Forgive me, I was unaware you had healing powers, least I offend you with my ignorance." He returned to his bow, awestruck by the god's unnatural beauty.

Grimmjow chuckled. "Your fears are unnecessary, as unfortunately, I am not well equipped to heal your mother." He answered honestly. "However," he added, as confusion and disappointment threatened to permeate the mortal's natural aura as he slowly looked up. "I cannot deny the call of someone with so much determination and fortitude, as they are aspects of my own nature." He explained.

"Your desire to heal your mother and the degree of sacrifice you offered to ensure her health reached my ears long before your prayer." This in itself wasn't a lie; he **had** witnessed Isidore's determination. "While I personally cannot take away your mother's illness, I will personally call upon Asclepius the healer to ensure your mother lives." He announced with finality in his voice.

"Rise, Isidore of Kamarina."

Isidore must have been used as a placeholder for Atlas, for his entire body felt lighter and full of hope upon Aether's promise. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the electric blue eyes; he has never seen such eyes in his life, and felt something strange within. He passed it off as his gratitude, having never felt a reason to be happy for the sake of someone outside of his family.

"I cannot express through words my gratefulness of your praise and assistance. How may I return the favor, lord of light, determination and atmosphere?" he asked, willing to do anything and everything for this generous god.

Grimmjow laughed, the sound lovelier than anything Isidore has ever heard. "I do not ask for much. After all, I cannot heal your mother personally as you had prayed for." He placed his hands on either of the mortal's shoulders. "My only request is for you to pray to me for the next seven days and seven nights. After you have done so, I shall appear to you once again with the cure for your mother's illness, crafted by Asclepius, and personally hand the potion to you."

Had Grimmjow not placed his hands on Isidore's shoulders, he would have collapsed in surprise. "You ask for nothing more?" he asked in astonishment. Smiling, Grimmjow shook his head. "You are far more generous than I could have ever imagined." He shook his head lightly. "I shall do so in earnest, and with unwavering resolution." He declared.

Grimmjow chuckled again. "And this is why I answered your prayer. Such tenacity is a rare and beautiful thing to witness in children of man. I thank **you** for such a rare gift." He smiled brightly as he removed his hands from the mortal, both quietly mourning the loss. "Never forget how blessed you are to be gifted with such strength." He added, before allowing himself to fade out from the young man's dream.

Isidore woke the next morning with joy in his heart and longing for the beautiful god to return. He turned to the side and his breath hitched.

Delicate but heavy with meaning, laid a pure blue iris on his wooden chest.

…..

Grimmjow returned to the heavens with a near permanent smile on his face. Some of the other gods noticed and wished him well, which he returned brightly. Nothing could bring down his mood.

It was perfect. He would appear before his soulmate under his human guise, and once the young man was nearing the end of his time at the market, would hand him the cure in his disguise, revealing who he was. it would be only a matter of elaborating his interest to the mortal, one that would hopefully be returned.

He scoffed to himself as he approached his destination. Naturally Isidore would fall in love with him; he saved his mother's life and is destined as his soulmate dammit! His prayers for help only made everything much easier…and faster. The primordial god entered Jinn's house without announcing himself.

The goddess of medicine was too engrossed in her project to really notice the other god until he cleared his throat. She let out an eek of surprise, and turned around. "Grimmjow! You frightened me!" she accused, a frown on her face.

Contrary to what the Greeks thought, Asclepius was a female god. Somehow, she was turned male without much explanation, and she changed her appearance if she ever assisted the Greeks, as it was quicker than explaining the truth. She was a youthful but tall woman with silver hair that shown in the light, and naturally endowed, as most goddesses were.

Jinn sighed as she placed her project to the side. "How can I help you, Grimmjow?" she asked wearily. It wasn't often the god of light and atmosphere needed her help. She feared she was being used for entertainment.

Grimmjow smiled. "Oh, come now, is that anyway to treat your elder?" he teased as he took a seat before turning serious. "I helped you create that cure for typhoid, so now I'm calling in that favor." He admitted.

Jinn blinked in surprise. "Oh? Something that needs my expertise I assume?" she guessed, turning fully to her guest.

Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah. I found my soulmate…" he paused so the woman could gush and coo at him with congratulations. "But I can't court him yet. His mother has come down with some sort of sickness, and the death of a love one would impede my courting, not to mention ruin the atmosphere I'm going for." He explained.

It might seem cold to only care about Mannara's health for the sake of his courting, but Isidore would also see it as his dedication to making the young man happy. It was a win-win scenario for both, really.

Jinn leaned back in her chair, humming. "I can probably help, but I need to know exactly what she has been plagued with. Where is the mother?" she asked.

Grimmjow sighed in relief. "Kamarina, Crete. I can only show you what I saw, but she truly is ill." He warned, before summoning the image he had of Mannara in front of the healer.

Jinn studied the image carefully, making quiet noises throughout the examination. She pursed her lips. "I will need a more thorough examination, but it appears she has been struck down by a serious disease or that new virus Lukki created." She huffed.

Grimmjow made a face. Lukki was the god of strife and disease, and known by the Greeks as Eris. In his case, he was mistaken as a woman instead of a man. He personally took insult to it, much to Grimmjow's amusement. "Can you cure it?" he asked quietly.

Normally, Jinn would be able to cure an illness quickly, but if it was still new, she needed to practice and perfect the cure, which unfortunately would be too long for newly plagued victims.

Jinn shrugged. "It depends. If it is a disease I already know about, I can cure it. if it's the new disease Lukki designed, I will need time." She answered honestly. "She is definitely ill, and will need healing regardless within the next two months or will be a target of Ulquimorrta's.

Ulquimorrta was the god of death, or Thanatos, as the Greeks knew him. Grimmjow actually got along well with the morose god, due to his darker powers being a force in the underworld.

Grimmjow sighed. He didn't want to strain the relationship between him and the god of death. "I promised him a cure within seven days. Is that reasonable for you?" he ventured, also knowing it wasn't a good idea to push the only person who could really help right now.

The goddess crossed her arms. "Geez, way to give me advanced notice." She grumbled before looking at him again. "I'll be able to answer you once I have a good look at her symptoms. Hold on." And with that she disappeared, heading for Kamarina.

Grimmjow poked around the house. It was far more modern than what the mortals had. Glass windows were extremely rare and only for the wealthiest humans, and marble was also reserved for the wealthy. That held no traction in the heavens. Even the lesser gods and immortals lived in opulence, incorporating their own style into their homes. Jinn personalized her house with warm colors and science based decorations and mementos sacrificed to her.

Grimmjow himself didn't decorate his house much, at least not from sacrifices offered to him. As Aether, he had little followers in Greece. The same applied for Erebus, who was feared more than beloved.

Grimmjow frowned to himself, reminded of his darker powers. His darkness form was frightening to humans, and he couldn't bear to see his beloved fear him. He resolved to withhold that side of him from his beloved, at least until he was made an immortal.

He wasn't left alone with his grim thoughts for long, as Jinn returned with a confident grin. "Well?" he pressed as she returned to her seat.

Jinn crossed her arms. "I checked on the woman personally. This is not Lukki's latest disease. While severe, I can heal her within a matter of months." she answered assuredly.

Grimmjow sighed. "Is there any sort of cure I can offer him within seven days? I had vowed to bring him one."

Jinn shrugged. "This illness happens to be one of the trickier ones that needs several months to fully dissipate…but I can't see a reason you cannot offer a pain reliver imbibed with moderate healing under the guise of being a true cure. It will take a lot more than just one potion, but the mortals don't need to know that." She surmised.

Grimmjow chuckled and pat the woman on her head, embarrassing her. "You're a good girl Jinn. Thank you." He praised.

Jinn blushed as she fixed her hair how she liked it. "I'm hardly a child Grimmjow; I'm three thousand years old." She pouted, looking every bit like the child she protested about.

He laughed again. "Everyone's a child compared to me. You know that." He teased, which lessened her pout. Good, he didn't want to actually piss her off or she wouldn't make the cures needed. "Send me a message when the temporary cure is ready." He turned to leave.

"Congratulations Grimmjow. You've waited long enough." She offered with a gentle smile. The primordial god paused, and smiled back as he left. Jinn sighed as she was left alone again. "Aahhh…I can't wait to find my soulmate." She said dreamily as she returned to her work.

…..

Isidore felt completely refreshing after his miraculous conversation with the god. An ancient one, at that. True to his word, he began his morning prayers, thanking Aether and Athena for his good fortune, respectively. He couldn't help but share his great news with his closest friend.

Claas couldn't believe it. "You gained the favor of an ancient god?" he repeated in astonishment. "Isidore, that is incredible!"

Isidore grinned. "Indeed, it is. I cannot believe my prayers were heard so quickly! All in part to my determination." He sighed as he looked to the sky. "Our troubles will be over. Mother will recover, and we can be a happy family once again." He turned to his friend with a grateful smile.

When Isidore smiled like that, Claas could not believe the man was still unwed. He was a kind and genuine man, and Claas wished the best for him in his search for a bride. But still…there was something troubling him.

"I do not wish to dampen your spirits, Isidore, but why did a primordial god even offer to help despite not having the power to heal your mother, and then ask for merely seven days and nights of prayer? It just…seems bizarre." He admitted.

Isidore shrugged. "It is just as you said and he admitted; he did not have the power himself to heal mother. But he vowed to bring the cure to me anyways. Is he not rewarding me for my patience and refusal to give up?" he countered, raising an eyebrow.

Both mortals were unaware of Grimmjow listening to their conversation. The god resisted the urge to curse the larger man for attempting to make his soulmate doubt his intentions…true as it might be that it was strange.

Claas sighed. "I do not know. But you are my closest friend, and I would hate to discover the god you spoke to was no more than a spirit or a nymph raising your hopes for their entertainment."

All three grimaced; that was an unfortunate fate for many mortals. Spirits had a flair especially for that type of trickery, and destroyed the hopes of hundreds. Many even took their own lives as a result of being deceived.

Isidore shook his head violently. "No…no…I refuse to believe the man who called to me is a lowly spirit! You should have seen him, Claas. He was beautiful in every way." He stated with conviction in his eyes.

Grimmjow couldn't help but preen at being called beautiful by the very man he called beautiful as well. Normally, he didn't care how people saw him, but it was very pleasing to hear his soulmate already found him attractive.

Claas decided not to press, because Isidore looked ready to vehemently defend the man who entered his dream last night. "Well, what did he look like?" he asked, humoring the notion.

Isidore looked to the skies again, a tender look in his eyes. "His eyes and hair were the color of the sky, and his skin glowed like gold. Athena held the same glow to her skin when I saw her as a child, and that is how I know he is a god." he sighed before turning back to his friend. "He had the most brilliant smile and laugh Claas. It was like seeing and hearing the heavens itself." He added.

 _Well damn_ , Grimmjow thought with a small blush. That's flattering as fuck. He had no idea he had left the farmer already smitten over him. Of course, that didn't hurt his objective of courting the man. On the contrary, he was certain the man would be his by time he left the market. He smiled at the oblivious man singing his praises. He would be sure to return the favor once Isidore was truly his.

Claas chuckled at the description. "Sounds like a deity alright. Though perhaps we should not find you a bride but a young man partner." He teased, laughing outright at Isidore's horror. "I merely jest, Isidore, though you cannot deny your description of this god could be mistaken as a lover." He said with a smile.

Isidore flushed pure red. "I am only describing what I saw! Gods are far more beautiful than men and women alike. It is not unreasonable to…" he growled as Claas resumed laughing at him. "Why do I put up with you?" he groused.

Claas gave him a knowing look. "Because I am your closest and only friend." He reminded cheerfully as Isidore contemplated bashing his head with a rock.

In the end he let the subject drop with a huff and crossed his arms. "Speaking of brides though, how is your wife to be?" he asked, desperate for another topic.

Claas smiled warmly. "She is so beautiful Isidore," he explained lovingly. Grimmjow took that as a good sign the man would not be competition. Good; he didn't have to curse his soulmate's closest companion. "I cannot wait for Gamelion to come. Perhaps by then, you too could have a beloved of your own. Your appearance cannot hide the wonderful person you are, Isidore. Man or woman would be lucky to have you as their own." He stated warmly.

Isidore turned red again as he turned away from his best friend, unknowingly turning to Grimmjow, who silently agreed with the taller man. "You give me too much credit Claas." He muttered out loud. "And you really need to stop implying I'll end up with a man. It's too scandalous, and I wouldn't want to shame my family with such a pairing." He stated.

There wasn't anything truly wrong with a man being in a relationship with another man actually. But the stigma that came with being the passive male, the one who was considered the 'woman' of the relationship, was harsh and unyielding. And Isidore inferred Claas calling him feminine. There was no greater insult for a man, though Isidore could not be so angered by his friend. He knew he didn't look like a typical Greek man.

Claas shook his head. "That wasn't my intentions at all, Isidore. I merely meant anyone would be lucky to have you as a husband. Forgive my crassness." He offered sincerely, before grinning and taking a step back. "But you cannot deny your lack of a beard…" he laughed, ducking as the younger man's fiery temper took hold and lobbed a stone at his teasing friend.

Grimmjow chuckled to himself at the display. Well, he certainly learned a lot from his little soulmate today. It was obvious the young man had budding feelings for him (fuck yeah), but mortal society made him fear being the passive one in a relationship.

Grimmjow didn't care a bit about that last part. Hell, he was an equal opportunist, contrary to what people might think of him. He wouldn't feel less of a man if he was being fucked by his soulmate. He made a note to himself to assure the man of that.

As for that temper of his, it could make things interesting. He didn't want a subservient lover anyhow, and he welcomed his argumentative nature. Life wouldn't be boring, that's for sure. For now, he just needed to wait. He watched as the two men bickered and harassed each other. Eventually, Claas needed to go back to his herd, and bade the farmer a good day as he headed home.

Isidore sighed. "What a pain in the ass you are Claas." He grumbled as he resumed his work. His scowl faded away though, as he thought back to the beautiful god who heard his prayers. As he worked, he never knew the god was smiling fondly at him.

…..

The days passed by in a blur for Isidore. He kept his promise, and prayed every morning and night to Aether. Every morning, he was rewarded with another blue iris. He finished up his work with the olive trees and gave explicit directions to his father, who would have to tend to them in his stead during his three days in Syracuse. He was surprised to see the cart wasn't as damaged as he recalled, and only had to make small repairs in order for the cart to be in working order.

He had given the irises to his mother, who had smiled brightly and immediately placed them in a vase. A blue iris meant hope and faith, which cheered everyone in the house. However, he had neglected to share his dream with his family as he had with Claas, fearing they might also believe he had been visited by a spirit instead. He refused to believe Aether had been only an illusion, and therefore kept the information to himself.

True to their words, his family helped however they could for the market in the past four days. Normally, Iason would have gone, but for the last two years, Mannara was sick, and he could not leave her side. Isidore had feared he would come home and she would be gone, but now he had too much hope to have that fear this year.

In addition to his olives and olive oils, Isidore packed pottery made by his mother and sisters, and a few hand carved wood pieces by Karin, who insisted he sold them for additional money to help their mother. Isidore only smiled and thanked her, knowing it wouldn't be necessary. He asked if there was anything they wanted; as there were plenty of goods not available in Kamarina that could be found in Syracuse.

The girls shyly asked for honey pastries, which was a bit of a luxury. Iason wanted to know if there were any exotic medicines being sold. Mannara didn't ask for anything, but Isidore planned to get her a new dress if he had a generous amount of money at the end of his time at the market.

Soon, it was the morning he would leave for the marketplace. He had just finished tightening the ropes securing his merchandise when his father came outside.

"Isidore, please be careful. There has been a lot of tensions between the Carthaginians and our city. If there is the slightest implication of battle, return home. We can wait." He assured him.

Isidore frowned. He knew things had been getting tense between Kamarina and Carthage for a while now, but war was always a frightening possibility. He shook his head. "Father, don't worry; I'll be fine. I have made the trip to Syracuse before during periods of war, and I have always returned. I promise I will be alright." He swore, offering a small smile.

Iason sighed and grinned despite himself. "It's only a father's duty to be worried about his son and daughters. I will worry anyways." he chuckled before getting serious again. "Just be careful. If war breaks while you are gone, just wait it out in the city of Akri." He pressed.

Isidore groaned but agreed, if only to get his father to stop worrying. He had never had an issue before. It was pointless to worry now. Not now when he would be bringing home the cure everyone desperately prayed for.

With a wave, Isidore set off, his family waving back until he could no longer see them. Isidore set himself up for a long ride, already planning his rest stops. His first stop would be during a late mid-day meal so the oxen could rest for a while near the city of Akrillai. Then stop to rest for the night in either Kasmenai or Morgantina, depending on how fast the oxen move. From there, it would take far less than half a day to get to the big city.

Iason had warned about tensions between the rival city-states, but he could not see any tensions at all. Rather, people looked up from their farming and waved as he passed. It was a relief, to be honest, as he had no way to really defend himself from a battle. A few thieves, perhaps, but not a fully trained army.

He had been riding for several hours when he finally spotted the city of Akrillai. It was another good trading city, but the real profits came from its mother city; Syracuse. He found a good resting spot to let the oxen rest and graze, and he took the time to stretch and think about starting his mid-day meal.

"Oh? Is that Isidore Karousakis I see?" an oily voice rang out. Isidore stiffened and turned to the owner of the voice.

It was an old tormentor of his when he was just a boy – Vavara Lastis. Even now, the older man grinned as he took notice of the unusual red-yellow hair.

Isidore's face hardened but nodded politely. The man chuckled. "I knew it was you. People can spot your vexatious head color beyond the mountains." He grinned, not a pretty sight. "What brings you to Akrillai, farmer boy?"

The farmer heaved a sigh. "I'm off to Syracuse to sell my olive oil and fruit. I am merely letting my oxen rest before we take off again. I had no idea you lived here now, Vavara." He stated calmly, doing his best not to let his old bully get to his head. He wasn't a child anymore…he could defend himself now.

Vavara scrunched his nose. "What? You think you're some sort of noble now because you own a few oxen? You're nothing Karousakis!" he snarled.

Isidore smirked. "Oh? That's why I'm heading to the big city to sell my wares…and you're here wearing tattered clothes."

Okay, not the best choice in words. The man snarled and went to throw a punch aimed straight for his head. Isidore immediately jumped back to avoid the hit. This went on for three more attacks, with Isidore dodging and Vavara getting more and more frustrated. Unfortunately, Isidore did not see the roots sticking out the ground, and fell with a surprised yelp. Vavara cackled at his misfortune, and stalked forward to pummel his old victim.

A sharp neigh cut through the air, and a black stallion suddenly intervened between the two men, causing Vavara to jump back in surprise. An equally sharp whistle had the horse turning back to it's master, who glared at Vavara.

Isidore couldn't help but stare at the man. He was the pinnacle of Grecian beauty. Raven locks tangled in the gentle breeze, and sun kissed skin covering hard muscles almost glowed wherever his pristine clothing did not cover. His clothing and the fact that the horse obeyed him told the two rivals this man had money.

He continued to glare as he stalked forward. "You seem very confident in your skills to attack a man who is disadvantaged. Very cowardly, if you ask me." He sneered, offering a hand to the stunned farmer.

Vavara scoffed. "I was only finishing what was started. This has nothing to do with you stranger, so get lost before I rough up that nice outfit of yours!" he snapped, but faltered when sharp brown eyes practically burned into him, taking the fight right out of him. The bully felt something off about this guy…and decided he wasn't going to take the risk of messing with him.

"I make it my business when brutes try to take advantage of others. How am I not to assume you were going to assault him and pilfer his wares? You know what this country does to thieves…don't you?" the stranger offered with a smirk.

Isidore watched with wide eyes as his old bully paled and ran away, then laughed softly to himself. Harassers…they never changed, he thought bitterly. He finally took the hand offered to him and dusted himself off. "Thank you…I'm so sorry I forced you to intervene good sir." He apologized.

Now close up and no longer angry, the man's eyes were a warmer color and he had the physical attractiveness of a charismatic leader. A strong nose, sharp eyes and a well-kept goatee accentuated his good looks, as well as the crooked smile offered.

The man waved him off. "Don't be. I couldn't stand idle while that…waste of human flesh attempted an assault in broad daylight. Utter fool." He scoffed in the man's direction before smiling softly at the farmer. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Isidore chuckled. "Yes, thanks to you. Please, what is the name of my protector?" he grinned back.

The man bowed slightly. "Forgive me, that was rather rude. Mikolas Gerasimos of Gela, at your service."

Isidore offered a lower bow in respect. "Isidore Karousakis of Kamarina. I thank you graciously for your intervention."

Mikolas raised an eyebrow. "Kamarina? That's the city at the southern east is it not? Have you come to Akrillai to sell your wares?" he asked with polite curiosity.

Isidore shook his head. "Not at all. I am merely resting here so…my oxen are not overworked. I am actually heading to Syracuse to sell my olive oils and fruits." He explained, gesturing to the cart and animals. He wasn't sure why, but he was reluctant to admit his true status to Mikolas.

The Gelan citizen chuckled. "Is that so? As it so happens, I was also on my way to Syracuse for business as well. Akrillai is usually such a nice city, but now my memory of it has been tainted." He grimaced and shook his head.

Isidore sighed. "As has mine. I always loved the view of the mountains when I travelled here as a child with my father. I was unaware Vavara had migrated here."

Again, Mikolas frowned. "You know that brute?" he asked in distaste.

Isidore shuddered. "Not fondly, I assure you. He had been very fond of torturing me as a child, and I can see that infatuation has not ebbed in the slightly." He muttered, mostly to himself but the other man heard anyways.

"Tch…what a repulsive man. Anyhow, how long do you plan on resting here? Perhaps we could travel to Syracuse together?" Mikolas offered with a smile, smoothly changing the subject.

The farmer blinked in surprise. "Together?" he repeated before laughing quietly. "I would only slow you down, good sir. My oxen are nowhere near as swift as a stallion…and a beautiful one at that." He added, mesmerized by the large pure black beast.

Mikolas whistled for his horse again, and the stallion trotted to his side. "Panthera is a patient horse. He wouldn't mind making friends with your oxen." He winked, and the farmer blushed as the wealthy man laughed. "Please. I do insist. We are heading towards the same city either way. The journey will go much faster with someone to conversate with."

"Well…if you do insist…then I would be more than happy to join you on your journey." Isidore relented with a smile.

Mikolas grinned. "Excellent! We shall let the animals rest for now. Let us learn more about one another over the mid-day meal." He decided, wrapping an arm around his companion as he guided them both towards the trees for a reprieve from the sun.

Isidore flushed at the constant skin to skin contact the other man insisted on having. Perhaps citizens of Gela were just very friendly people. Isidore gathered a small basket filled by his sisters and a container of olive oil to dress the bread with.

"So…Isidore eh? Your parents must have felt blessed to name their child Strong Gift." Mikolas grinned as he pulled out the jug and cups (red painted pottery at that!) for their wine and oil.

Isidore flushed even as he poured a small amount of the oil into one of those elaborate dishes. "My father enlightened me to the reason when I was a child. As it were, my parents had struggled to conceive." He explained sheepishly. Mikolas nodded, intently listening. "They had been married for two years, but a child never came for their efforts. They decided to pray to Hera for fertility, and not long after, they were blessed with me. I was known as their miracle child." He explained with a smile.

Mikolas returned the smile brightly. "What a beautiful story. It would seem your family as a whole is quite blessed. You are a very kind and good person, I could see that right away." He said sincerely.

The younger man ducked his head, laughing quietly. "Even so, the gods may have taken pity, but they surely could have refrained from giving me such a strange colored head." He joked, but was surprised when the other man failed to laugh along.

Mikolas raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me, I fail to see the humor here. You were clearly blessed as a child by the gods, yet you hold contempt for your appearance. Why is that?" he asked, and Isidore was startled to realize he was completely serious.

He frowned and pointed at his head. "You find nothing curious about my appearance?" he asked incredulously.

Mikolas shrugged. "I have traveled across many lands in my youth, apprenticing in different crafts honed by countless cultures. There were people in the far west who had similar colorings. Many of them, in fact, the more northern you went." He described.

Isidore was stumped. He had no idea there could possibly be others who looked the way he did. "And they…were treated well and with respect?" he asked cautiously with a glimmer of hope.

Mikolas smiled softly. "The ones I encountered were royalty of their own cultures. There is no reason to be treated so harshly based on the color of ones' hair." He declared, ruffling his new friend's hair to make a point, his smile morphing into a teasing grin.

Isidore coughed and swatted his hand away. "Yes well…that is enlightening to hear. You must be well traveled and experienced then. I would love to hear stories of your travels during our excursion." He said in earnest. Traveling merchants always had such fascinating tales.

Mikolas laughed. "My tales are not as adventurous as you might hope, but I am happy to oblige!" he picked up his casket of wine, pouring a small amount into one glass, but a larger amount in another before adding water to each.

Isidore raised an eyebrow himself. "Are you not worried about imbibing too much to ride properly?" he asked politely. No Greek drank wine straight; it was barbaric. Wine was meant to be watered down.

Mikolas laughed. "Now THAT is a story worth sharing over horseback, but I'm happy to share now." He leaned forward artfully. "As a young child, I forwent water entirely, and drank an entire casket of wine unfiltered." Isidore bit back a chuckle; that surely didn't end well. "I ended up horribly sick as a result. Almost swore to never drink wine again. But as I aged, I returned to it gracefully, and discovered I would need to imbibe much more wine, watered or not, to return to such a humiliating state. I was quite embarrassed at the time though." He chuckled at his own expense.

Isidore laughed outright. "Oh, you poor man. That must have been a dreadful time for you. Must have bee a shock for your parents, especially when you were gifted with the equally heavy name 'The people's victory.' I cannot imagine their embarrassment." He teased lightly.

Mikolas rolled his eyes. "Oh yes you can. It's the same for anyone whose child makes a fool of themselves. And I cannot imagine why they burdened me with such a heavy name; perhaps they assumed I would go on to great things." He shrugged, accepting the bread smeared with olive oil.

Isidore gave him a soft look. "Really? Because from my viewpoint you did go on to achieve such greatness. You are very well traveled." He expressed warmly before raised an eyebrow as the man froze after taking a bite of his bread. "Is something wrong? Has the oil been out in the sun too long?" he fretted.

Mikolas shook his head rapidly. "No, no! Not at all! I just…this is…the purest olive oil I've ever tasted!" he declared with a wide grin, polishing his bread in two more bites. "You grew this yourself? Incredible!" he raved.

Isidore blushed; he was always so shy when people praised the – literal – fruit of his labor. "Thank you. Athena blessed my family with excellent fruit. There is very little I am responsible for." He insisted.

Mikolas laughed as he took a sip of his slightly watered-down wine. "Hardly! Indeed, Athena may have blessed you with the fruit trees, but the fruit itself is solely the responsibility of the farmer. You grew these delicious olives, not Athena." He shot back with a knowing smile.

Isidore felt red again. It was such a shock to be treated so kindly. He was used to people helping him out of necessity, but Mikolas was treating him like an old friend who needed a pep talk. It was…nice.

He smiled brightly, still pink around his ears as he offered more bread. Mikolas's eyes lit up and they traded his olive oil spread bread for some dates and nuts the other man had brought with him.

They ended lunch after a few more minutes, realizing if they wanted to get to Morgantina before sundown, they needed to leave soon. As they packed up, the two chatted a little more about their lives.

Mikolas was an only child, it turned out, and he had been a terrible prankster as a child, which prompted his father to send him off around the world and become well rounded to make up for his immaturity. He had just returned from the mysterious China, and planned on negotiating some trade routes open to the ancient country through Syracuse.

In return, Isidore opened up about his two sisters and the usually crazy antics of his father (he hadn't been able to joke around much since Mannara's sickness). He also, sheepishly, admitted the oxen weren't his, merely a loan from his good friend. Mikolas scoffed at the notion he would have looked down on the other man for being less fortunate, and they began a friendly banter as they continued their journey.

Isidore had never felt so secure around another person who wasn't his family or Claas. He wasn't sure why, but he was just so comfortable around Mikolas. It was a pleasant feeling, to know he had gain another ally, and one so interesting and wealthy in knowledge and coin. He didn't concern himself too much with that last facet of the handsome man, but he was eager to absorb the stories of his travels, having never left Crete, much less Greece. For once, he was looking forward to the journey of heading to Syracuse.

….

Grimmjow was ecstatic underneath his mortal skin. Isidore really was a beautiful person inside and out. Having those warm honey colored eyes stare at him, actually looking at him this time, in happiness, made him almost blow his cover and reveal himself too early.

He really had to offer some gratitude to the loathsome man who tormented his soon to be love; it was a perfect excuse to swoop in and protect his soulmate, which would only make the young farmer adore him even more. He could tell Isidore was already attracted to 'Mikolas' by the change in color of his aura. He had shown signs of the same attraction when he entered his dreams as Aether, but dreams make auras appear faint.

Coming up with Mikolas's story and life was painfully easy, and Grimmjow made sure he would apologize to his lover once he was indeed his lover and aware of the truth. Though, to be fair, some of the stories he was sharing while they rode towards the mountains weren't false. He really had visited a lot of countries across the world and taken interest in some trades (taking an appropriate guise to learn firsthand) while performing his work as the god of darkness and light. Though he definitely altered the story about getting drunk on wine at a young age.

First, he was never a child; he was created by _**his**_ elders the Fates and Chaos (who thankfully was in an eternal sleep). Secondly, gods _**never**_ watered-down wine. It was a travesty for Shanes – Dionysus – to see his lovely wine spoiled by the Greeks, but then again, he was often too drunk to remember unless someone brought it up. Finally, the god who **had** gotten drunk off their ass surprised everyone; Thanatos: the dour god of death. Grimmjow had laughed so hard he pissed himself at the normally monotonous and serious god grinning and…holy shit… _making jokes_.

It was easily one of his favorite moments in his impossibly long life. He was so eager to share his old experiences and be introduced to many more with Isidore at his side. However, if everything went as planned, Jinn would have the semi-cure ready for him in two days, and during Isidore's last night of praying for him, he would reveal who he was within that time. As the two men finally reached Morgantina after many hours of conversation, he looked forward to his time spent in Syracuse.

…

 **AWTG: Oh my god you have no idea just how hard it was to finish this. My winter break was not relaxing at all and I was forced to put this way behind schedule. But here it is. Please feel free to offer criticism; it's why I post here.**

 **Gela was a real place just like Kamarina and the other cities I listed, but if I'm missing something please feel free to correct me.**

 **Oh, and from what I learned, red pottery was very expensive back then. Thank you!**

 **Ciao~!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: I'm alive! Thank you to those who were kind enough to review my story. I really do appreciate it, and it's encouraging words like yours that motivate me! It took much longer than I'd liked, (sorry…) but you all deserved it.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter well. Unlike Amoris Oppositi, where the romance flames burned slowly, this story is going to move a lot faster. Mostly because I tried to be more realistic in AO.**

 **This story involved gods though, for fuck's sake; they don't care for taking it slow, they want their pleasures now! That said, prepare for some wooing in this chapter.**

 **Will Isidore accept Grimmjow's courting? Or will he feel betrayed? I hope you like what you read, because here it is!**

 **Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Courting, Slight Perverseness, Emotional Rollercoaster, Fluff and some Angst**

 **Chapter III**

….

Morgantina was a quaint village known as a resting stop for travelers on their way to Syracuse. Which meant there were plenty of inns to choose from.

Mikolas insisted he knew an innkeeper who always had a room set aside for him due to his constant traveling to and from Syracuse. Isidore hardly protested; it had been a long day, and while he had enjoyed the wealthy man's company, he was beginning to feel fatigued.

Time had flown by the more he had listened to the other man's magnificent tales. He was especially enthralled by the stories of the mysterious China and India. Mikolas showed him the items he brought back from those faraway countries.

One was brightly colored clothing so soft and luxurious to the touch, Isidore feared his lowly farmer hands would dirty or damage the beautiful cloth. Mikolas had scoffed, and insisted he touch the article known as silk. The other were fragrant spices that stung the farmer's nose. Mikolas laughed and admitted he had been assaulted the same way when first introduced to the herbs.

In addition to those wonderful silk clothes and spices, the wealthy man had several strange instruments he claimed were from the distant west. Apparently, the people there were very pale and shared his hair coloring, and they had a love of music.

He demonstrated how to play the pan flute, as it was known, and Isidore was moved by the dulcet tones. The farmer had been so enthralled with the other man's worldly experiences that he couldn't help but ask more about his travels.

Luckily, the man was good-natured enough to indulge him, and shared several fascinating experiences with him. Currently, as the sun began to set and they headed towards the inn, he discussed the many languages he learned over his explorations.

"Naturally, one does absorb the culture and linguistics of the host country, but I was in for such a culture shock once I returned home. I had nearly forgotten my mother tongue!" he insisted, much to the olive farmer's amusement. "Imagine the shame of traveling all over the world, only to discover I had nearly forsaken my own roots!"

Isidore laughed as they arrived at a cozy looking inn. "Oh, to have the troubles of knowing and seeing too much! Such madness indeed." He teased, causing a pretty flush on the other man. Mikolas was rather humble despite his fantastic adventures and had done his fair share of asking queries about Isidore's life as well.

Naturally, the young farmer was a tad bit abashed and could hardly offer thrilling tales, but Mikolas hung onto every word anyways, genuinely curious about the life of a common farmer.

Mikolas grumbled. "Alright, alright, I had it easier than you. Must you mock me so?" he pouted, which was far too cute a sight for a man so masculine looking. Isidore chuckled as they finished tying up their respective steads and headed inside.

The inn was warm and cozy. An older man lit up at the sight of Mikolas and rushed towards them. "By Athena, if it isn't Mikolas of Gela!" the old man laughed and embraced the younger man warmly. "Heading to Syracuse once again I see?" he asked brightly.

Mikolas flashed a charming smile. "But of course! And I couldn't forgive myself if I did not at least drop by for a hello." He added with a laugh. Isidore watched all this a few steps away from the them, politely trying not to seem invasive.

The innkeeper chortled. "Oh, you flatterer!" he wagged his finger and laughed. "I always keep your room ready should the chance occur. Ah, pardon me sir, I shall help you within a moment." He added, finally noticing Isidore.

Mikolas shook his head. "That won't be necessary old friend. I decided to bring along an accomplice of mine. You simply must try his olive oil; it's the best I've ever tasted!" he insisted, causing the farmer to grow flustered.

"Mikolas please! I appreciate your generosity, but I wouldn't want to encroach on your friend's keep without paying." He insisted. He had a little money saved to sleep at the inn. There was no need to keep invading his new friend's space.

The innkeeper laughed. "Ha! You must not know this man well enough then! If he insists you shall be inclined to follow." He said cheerfully. Isidore hummed as he realized how true that was. "Any friend of Mikolas is a friend of mine, gentlemen, enjoy some food and drink while I have my maids add the necessary accommodations." He insisted, gently nudging the two towards tables creaking ominously under the strain of so much food.

What else were they to do but comply? Gathering a plate, Isidore carefully picked out a couple slices of cheese, quail eggs, nuts, and bread for himself. He had never been a heavy eater.

Mikolas noticed this. "Not hungry?" he asked, his own plate filled with fish and meats. Isidore shook his head politely.

"Oh no. I find it harder to wake up in the morning if I have too much food and wine the night before. The fish does look quite appealing, but I'll start off with this for now." He smiled modestly.

Mikolas pursed his lips but offered nothing more on the topic. The farmer was very thin, and he would hate to think the farmer willingly starved himself to save money or sacrifice a few meals for the sake of his family. The god hiding underneath the human skin vowed to pamper his lover dearly.

Isidore hummed as he sipped his wine. "That reminds me, how did you come to be so friendly with this old innkeeper? He's incredibly hospitable, even for his occupation." He noted.

Mikolas grinned. "Ah, old Agapios? He started off as a family friend who was close to my father. Through my father's connections, he was able to build his own inn. That man puts his blood, sweat, and tears into running this establishment. I admire him greatly for his dedication." He said with a kind smile.

In truth, the old innkeeper wasn't human. He was a spirit who lives among humans and simultaneously served the mortals and the rare god or two because he was a kind spirit who truly loved to help and serve. Several gods, including Grimmjow, had invited him to the heavens for a bit of luxuries for all his good deeds, but the spirit insisted he was happy enough to be a friend of a god.

And so, the spirit treated the god of light and darkness warmly if he ever stopped by. Of course, telepathically announcing that he was coming under the guise of a mortal and what name he's using at the time really helped too.

After some time spent having light conversation and eating, Agapios came and personally guided them to Mikolas's room. Isidore had to make sure his mouth was closed to avoid looking like an impoverished fool.

There was a woven bed that held cloth instead of the usual netting. And the windows were made of…by Zeus…stained glass! Only the truly wealthy had such luxurious things. And he was supposed to share such a bed with this man? Oh, by Athena, he did not feel worthy enough for such a gift.

Mikolas poked at the coals already sizzling in the fireplace, and once he was satisfied with how the fire was coming along, turned to his companion. "No need to stand still. You won't break anything I assure you." He added with a smile.

Isidore gulped and shook his head almost childishly. That was precisely what he was worried about. Everything from the beautiful mosaic tile to the hearth of the fireplace was worth far beyond what he could ever repay should he cause any damages. Mikolas must have noticed this, stepping away from the fire and dragged the sputtering youth into the room.

"Relax, Isidore, relax!" he laughed as he lightly wrestled the man onto the bed, pinning him effectively and swiftly. "I assure you, you won't break anything important, and should you anyhow, Agapios is an understanding man. Accidents happen." He reminded the young farmer held underneath him.

Poor Isidore struggled at being so easily pinned to the bed by the other man. Had he not been so flustered, he would have been lost in the sensations of such a soft bed. "Mi…Mikolas please. I won't treat the room like gold, please let me go." He pleaded softly, a look of desperation creeping on at being manhandled so easily.

The elder man pretended to consider it, but ultimately relented. More than enough rapport had been built between the two of them, but not enough to continue teasing like old friends.

Now freed and given a chance to view the rest of the room, Isidore was understandably impressed. "I can't believe such a room exists." He admitted.

Mikolas smiled proudly. "For all purposes it doesn't. This room was built by my father for our family to use whenever we traversed to Syracuse. Agapios upkeeps it with a few trusted servants, but other than that, very few know of this room." He explained.

Another partial truth. Once the spirit knew a power blessed individual was staying at his inn, he 'pulled' this room into existence. It wouldn't do for an ordinary mortal to take advantage of a god or immortal's lodgings, so the portal to the room would be summoned to an otherwise empty wall once needed.

Isidore hummed in understanding. "Still, such a room is incredible. I am incredibly humbled to be considered worthy of sharing such a space." He acknowledged.

Mikolas waved it off. "You are a good man Isidore. You really should allow yourself a little luxury every now and then. I would think your family would agree. Speaking of which, I would love to hear more about this carpentry master of a sister." He leaned forward with a grin. If Isidore knew it was an attempt to change the subject he did not comment on it.

He was more than happy to oblige, nonetheless, and the two men talked for another hour about anything and everything.

Isidore had been listening to Mikolas's tales of India again when he could barely cover his mouth in time and yawned quite loudly. "Forgive me; I must be more exhausted than I realized." He apologized, embarrassed for interrupting his new friend's tale.

Mikolas took this as a chance to yawn himself. "Hardly worth the trouble. This day was rather long." He reminded before standing up to stretch. "Shall we turn in for the night?" he suggested, ever the courteous host. Isidore nodded before standing up himself, humming as he began to remove his clothing.

Mikolas chuckled and followed suit, yet on the inside the god playing mortal sighed with longing. Isidore really was thin for his age, but that gave him a svelte and lean cut figure that was practically built to be held against him.

It was a relief the Greeks had no shame when it came to stripping in front of strangers. People shared beds all over the world, strangers included, but the Romans and Greeks had no need for modesty among their same sex peers.

Once the two men were relieved of their outer clothing, Isidore carefully folding his up while Mikolas carelessly tossed them on a chaise to be dealt with later, Isidore cleared his throat.

"I hope you don't mind, but I have some prayers I'd like to offer before bed." He explained with a shy smile.

Grimmjow was preening on the inside, knowing fully well his farmer was still following his request. His guise of Mikolas just chuckled and shrugged. "Do not let me get in the way of your prayers." He said, stepping off to the side to fix his clothing and give the other man some privacy.

Isidore sighed in relief and began his usual prayers; to Athena and Asclepius, the health of his family, and finally, Aether. Once he finished Mikolas gave a noise of interest.

"Aether eh? That's a god you don't hear many pray to. Might I ask why you pray to the god of light?" he asked innocently, curious to Isidore's answer. Would he attempt to deceive his new friend, or tell the truth?

Isidore hesitated for a moment. Surely, such a worldly man would doubt his dreams as interesting…right? But then again, he had been such a good sport before, there could be little harm in sharing his reasoning. Thus, Isidore calmly explained his dream to the other man, and left very few details behind.

"I have kept my promise for five days and nights. Hopefully a sign will appear in the next two nights as was promised to me." He finished, glancing away from the other man.

Mikolas hummed thoughtfully. "You are much more special than you let on, Isidore, to be noticed by a primordial god. It is not a circumstance that occurs often or lightly." He said seriously.

And that was true; the primordials had no need to appease the mortals into worshipping them.

It also warmed him to the core to know how much his farmer already trusted him, to share such secrets with him. And from checking in on Isidore he knew the young man had been diligently keeping his promise. Isidore hummed, bringing the disguised god's attention back to him.

"Still…I cannot help but wonder why he felt the need to answer my prayer? It is as you said; ancient gods usually keep to themselves. Why bother with a lowly farmer?" he wondered out loud.

By Olympus, he wanted to explain it all to him right now. Patience never was Grimmjow's strong suit. "Who can say? If what he had told you was true, he had acknowledged and admired your determination. Perhaps it was the likes of one he rarely sees and felt he had to reward you." the god in question replied.

Hopeful eyes turned to him. "You truly believe so?" a shy smile threatened to stretch the young man's face. "I was concerned you might believe me mad, or I was manipulated by a trickster spirit." He confessed.

Mikolas chuckled and came closer, also resting on the bed. "I would never mock someone for something they truly believe in." he assured the farmer. "I hope everything turns out exactly as you deserve, Isidore. I have met hundreds upon hundreds of people…but none with a vivacious desire to achieve their goals like you. The god said, sincerity in every word.

Isidore swallowed thickly. For some reason, seeing that look of sincerity on Mikolas's face made his own feel hot, and he turned away before he said something strange. But then he recalled something else.

"There is another tidbit that troubles me. For such a powerful god, even knowing he was not gifted with the ability to heal my mother, he accepted my plea on the condition I pray for seven days and nights. Why not ask for me to pray to him for the rest of my life?" he wondered once again.

Mikolas looked up at the ceiling with an unreasonable expression before looking back at his bed mate. "I cannot say. That would have to be answered by him and him alone." He answered plainly.

Isidore hummed before stretching. "Perhaps you're right." He agreed before another yawn escaped him. "I'm sorry Mikolas, it really has been a long day." He apologized tiredly.

The merchant chuckled. "Don't be; we have plenty of time to share more stories in the morning. It will be a long ride to Syracuse. Rest well Isidore." He smiled before he extinguished the fire.

The two men slid into the bed, Isidore sighing happily at how soft and wonderful it was, before promptly falling asleep.

Grimmjow shed his disguise once he was sure his companion was asleep and stared at the young farmer's peaceful visage. The lines on his face were gone, and he hoped this meant the man would get a full restful sleep.

How prosperous this day had been! He already learned so much about his future intended, and what was first attraction stemmed from his first gaze upon the man ignited into pure head-over-heels love after seeing how kind, warm and dedicated Isidore was.

Isidore shifted in his sleep and sighed, causing the god to smile. If he truly wanted to, he'd peer into his sleeping companion's dreams. But he was already so close. No need to overstep his bounds by invading the man's sleep every night.

Speaking of night, he should probably warn his darker heart of his decision; he wanted to wait until the mortal trusted him enough before seeing his darker heart.

What mortals didn't know about gods who bore two or more different 'gifts' was that those extra powers sometimes took on lives, or hearts, of their own. Aether (light) and Erebus (darkness) were both entities of Grimmjow, but each entity had their own personality and hearts based on their aspect. He was one of only three gods who could physically split his entities.

What the Greeks knew as Erebus was a much colder, twisted individual, and he needed to be in order to assist the underworld gods in keeping the netherworld inhabitants in line. He wasn't heartless, but he could be frightening to gaze upon, especially for a mortal.

He knew based on his experience that Isidore would not be one of those mortals who would faint upon seeing his darker form, but it was not one he wanted to introduce the youth to anytime soon.

It would be too much to drop so many surprises on the youth within a matter of hours or days of each other. No, he'll pace it out so Isidore can get comfortable around being the soulmate of a god.

Summoning a dark robe to keep himself decent, he slipped out the room through the shadows.

Panthera, or his darkness heart, was being kept in a private 'stall' as requested to the spirit innkeeper. The darkness half looked rather put out when confronted by his master, caught in a compromising position.

Grimmjow groaned. "Panthera, you know this cannot continue right?" he asked dryly as three of the seven spirits blushed and attempted to cover themselves in front of the primordial god.

The darkness god chuckled, unashamed. "Of course, I know! I'm trying to make the most of my time left unchecked while I can after all." He grinned, gesturing to all the other occupants in the room in various stages of undress.

Grimmjow let out a suffering sigh, and pierced the darkness being with a look, which caused the other to grouse and pull himself out of the bed and away from grabbing hands, coyly assuring he'd be back soon enough.

Once the two were in relative privacy Grimmjow crossed his arms. "Should I even ask how you convinced seven elemental spirits into sharing a bed with you?" he frowned. His darker half's libido was rivaled only by the sex, love and pleasure gods themselves.

The darkness god chuckled. "You and I both know the answer to that one, so let's just get this over with so I can get back to my little 'party.'" A suggestive wink was thrown his way, and the light half had to wonder how he ended up with such a lascivious 'twin.'

Grimmjow and Panthera were for the most part identical. The main differences were in their eyes, hair and skin tone. Grimmjow's hair and eyes were lighter like the color of the sky, with a richer skin tone like one who lazed out in the sun often. Panthera was the opposite; porcelain skin with midnight blue hair and eyes, which mixed in with his depraved grins and bouts of laughter caused plenty of unease among humans and younger gods/immortals.

Apparently, that didn't stop him from having a… _ahem_ …healthy sex life.

The light god gave his darker half a flat look. "That's part of my problem Panthera; you're going to have to end this debauchery once I properly claim Isidore as our soulmate. But in the meantime, you're going to have to…"

Panthera groaned. "No way! You're not shoving me to the side! He's my soulmate too." He glared, which could freeze the heart of a human but merely left Grimmjow annoyed.

"Right…you seem just as enthused about it as I am." He shot back, glancing back at the room where seven spirits were anxiously awaiting the darkness god's return.

"It's one last gig to get everything out of my system." Said darkness god argued, only to receive a look that told him the light god was not buying it. "Oi, don't blame me for your pathetic sex life, Mr. High and Mighty. I actually like the kid too."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "Really? And this is your way of proving it?" he pressed, ignoring the jab at his own sex life.

Panthera made a face. "I just told you, I'm getting any urges I have out now before he's claimed. You'd kill me if I have sex with anyone else after this, even if Isidore ends up understanding we're different." He insisted before glancing away. "And I mean it; the kid has an aura around him that's just too beautiful to ignore, much less his personality." He added softly.

Grimmjow's eyes softened at the admission. "So, you understand then? Why I'm asking this of you? I am not ashamed of you, Panthera, but I cannot reveal you yet." A tanned hand laid on a pale shoulder which forced the darkness god to look at his lighter half. "This is far too important Pan. You're boisterous and reckless and…for a lack of wording…frightening to mortals. I don't want to scare him."

Panthera grumbled at the nickname only Grimmjow could dare get away with and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Hide the freaky shit until the sixth or seventh date. Amara already warned me about that." He grinned cheekily while the other god tried and failed not to shudder.

"You're vile." Grimmjow declared, only for the other god to laugh at the accusation. He flicked the darkness heart on the forehead. "Enough; you'll wake and scare the villagers. Try not to pull anything. I'd hate to hear you whine about it on the ride to Syracuse." he scolded with a smirk of his own.

Panthera snorted. "You're lucky I didn't pull something hauling your fatass today. Later, _Grimmy_." He chuckled as he turned into shadows before returning to his room, just in time to avoid being punched by the annoyed god of light.

Grimmjow shot a dirty look in his darker heart's direction before slipping back into his room to find Isidore was still sound asleep. The farmer hardly stirred when he finally slid into the bed, nor when Grimmjow brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

' _You truly are something if even Panthera is willing to behave for you. I promise we'll treat you like the treasure you are, Isidore_.' Grimmjow thought to himself before quickly donning his human disguise and falling asleep, comforted by the negligible distance between himself and his soulmate.

…

Isidore woke the next morning bright and early, far more refreshed than he's ever been before. And yet, he also felt somewhat warmer and weighed down too. This couldn't simply be from the cloth bedding…could it?

The young farmer glanced down and turned quite red upon realizing precisely why he was so warm; Mikolas's arm was draped over his chest, the other man snoring peacefully as he laid on his stomach.

The warmth seemed to have spread from his face to his stomach, because he felt that strange feeling like the day before. He gulped quietly and tried to look away. He didn't want the other man to wake up and discover he was watching him in his sleep. That would leave all the wrong impressions!

But…how was he to avoid leading to that uncomfortable situation? Should he pretend to go back to sleep until the other man was awake? Move his arm so it was no longer covering his person? Wake him intentionally to realize where he had erroneously left his arm?! Isidore had no idea what to do.

To his relief, he did not have to make any such decision, as Mikolas stirred once the light from the windows reached his face. "Mmmh…morning." The trader said with a husky, sleep worn voice. Isidore tried to ignore the warmth threatening to grow inside him again.

"G-g-good morning." Isidore stuttered, still locked in place by Mikolas's arm. This seemed to notify the other man, who stared at him in slight confusion until he realized where his arm was resting.

With a heavy blush the merchant yanked his arm away like he was burned. "I…! I'm so sorry…! I…" he sputtered until the farmer began to chuckle and waved him off.

"Please, don't feel ashamed! It was only an accident after all. I had just woken up myself to be quite honest, no harm done!" Isidore insisted frantically, though he knew his face was still warm.

Both men were left a blushing mess until Mikolas cleared his throat. "Well…then," he tried lamely. "I suppose we should prepare for the road. We still have quite some ways to go after all." He chuckled and pulled out of the bed.

Inwardly the god seethed. So much for Panthera behaving. No doubt his troublesome other half caused this. The ass was already laughing from the safety of the outside stall. Meddlesome asshole…he was fine without the pervert's help.

Isidore for his part did his best to ignore how comfortable and well placed it had been to awaken next to Mikolas, strange as that was. The farmer dressed himself with little speech outside of his morning prayers, not one for the mornings.

Mikolas must have noticed, because he stopped talking as he continued his own routine. After waiting for Isidore to finish his morning prayers the two gathered what was left of their things and left.

Mikolas warmly bade farewell to his friend, who insisted on giving them both warm whole sweet breads for the road. Isidore ate half of his before tearing the remaining half for the oxen.

The merchant chuckled. "Are you always so giving? That could have been used for lunch were you no longer hungry." He pointed out.

Isidore shrugged. "I suppose so, but I don't like eating too many sweet things, especially so early in the morning. I'd rather enjoy something more indulgent after the day has ended." He answered honestly.

Mikolas gave him a look. "You hardly touched your food last night and yet you talk of eating indulgently at the end of the day?" he asked skeptically.

The farmer grinned. "Ah yes, my mistake. I meant at the end of my work day. I eat a light dinner because I will have a larger meal beforehand, just without wine. When I am on the road I supposed it is worth relaxing my own rules, but I've always done it I guess." He admitted.

His companion hummed thoughtfully at the explanation and offered the remainder of his sweet bread to his horse, who happily munched on it.

Isidore snickered. "Are you always so giving?" he teased, using the other man's words against him. Mikolas sent him a blinding smile.

"I suppose so."

….

Four and a half hours later, the travelers began to see the edge of the massive city in the horizons. Mikolas sighed in relief.

"Thank the gods above and below. At least you have a cart, riding a horse all day can be quite uncomfortable." He grumbled.

Panthera snorted and shook his mane. ' _Oi, hauling your fatass isn't a treat either!_ ' the darkness being snarled telepathically.

' _Watch it jackass…I still haven't forgiven you for your little joke from this morning. And quit calling me fat. Or have you run out of insults already?_ ' the light being taunted. Throughout the travels, Panthera whined about how heavy Grimmjow was or simply called him fat every now and then.

' _Were it not true I'd use something else!'_ the god turned horse shot back. ' _Believe me, I'd much rather let Isidore ride me than your officious ass._ ' This was said with a hidden smile in his tone.

Grimmjow dug his heel into the horse's side. 'Perverted asshole.' He glowered mentally.

Oblivious to the internal argument of his new companion and his horse, Isidore hummed out loud. "I wouldn't know. I've never ridden a horse before." he admitted, much to both gods' surprise.

' _Isn't he supposed to be a farmer? How does he survive without a horse?!_ ' Panthera thought incredulously.

' _His family was not blessed with much Pan. Try to remember that when we do reveal ourselves. He won't be used to receiving gifts_.' Grimmjow quietly reasoned.

' _I'd say. He was terrified of silk for fuck's sake!_ ' the darker being exclaimed.

On the outside, Mikolas gave a kind smile. "Would you like to try your hand at it?" he offered gently. "My horse is well trained. You will neither hurt him nor be harmed by him." He promised.

Isidore looked skeptical. The horse seemed tame enough, but it was a large beast nonetheless. Having never ridden before gave the younger man pause.

The god saw the desire in his future beloved's eyes and got off his horse, offering the farmer a hand. Curiosity getting the better of him, Isidore allowed himself to be helped onto the horse. It felt strange to say the least, but the horse was rather patient with a complete stranger on its back.

' _There you go Panthera…you got your wish_.' Grimmjow teased as he calmly explained how to control the reins and other important information. Not that it was necessary; Panthera wouldn't dare hurt Isidore.

' _Fuck you. I'm still going to enjoy this_.' Panthera grinned mentally. ' _I'm definitely not letting you back on; he's so much lighter and gentler_.' The god turned horse huffed a little and threw his head back when Isidore braved a hand over his snout.

' _He won't be once he gets to know the real you. You can bet on that_.' Grimmjow grinned back as Isidore became more accustomed to being on a horse. It was all worth it to see the look of pure joy on his face.

The two men decided to switch modes of travel until they got much closer to the city. Isidore had the time of his life but never strayed too far from his friend.

The other man was far too much of a good sport though, and he relaxed as he drove the oxen at a much more comfortable pace.

After another hour of travel, the city was far closer, so the two switched off again, with Isidore clearly reluctant to leave the black stallion.

Mikolas laughed. "He's taken quite the liking to you as well. I'm sure you'll have plenty of chances to reacquaint yourself with him." He promised, a double meaning behind his words.

Panthera would have pouted had he the lips to do so but made up for his lack of humanoid features by licking a strip of Isidore's cheek with his tongue. The strange sensation made the younger man laugh and rub the horse's snout for his antics.

' _Damn…he even tastes good_.' Panthera thought out loud longingly. Grimmjow hummed, keeping that thought (and taste) at the back of his thoughts. Isidore tasted of the olives he grew, warmth brought by sunlight, and pure spring water. It was a fantastic mix, one both entities could drink endlessly.

Still, he had a plan to put in motion, and dwelling on distracting subjects would only waste his time. "You're practically best friends already! Do you have time to walk around or must you set up shop?" he asked casually. If the farmer needed to sell his wares, there was no reason to stall him.

Isidore gave an apologetic look. "I'm terribly sorry Mikolas. I enjoyed our conversations and travels together, but I really should open soon. It is a good hour for selling." He explained.

Most wares were sold at different intervals of the day, before the mid-day meal, and when the sun began to set. Most people did not want to go out to market with the sun at its hottest.

Mikolas nodded in understanding. "That is quite alright my friend. How about I become your first customer then?" he winked, gesturing to a pot of olive oil.

Isidore laughed. "The oil is yours. It's the least I can do for your generous allowance of me riding your stallion." He insisted.

Mikolas pursed his lips. The farmer was too generous. A horse was valuable yes, but his product was high quality. Something told him the young man would refuse coin. Then he smiled.

"A trade then? Three of your pots of oils, in exchange for silk for your mother?" he bartered. He could conjure anything he wanted from his pouch, it all depended on thinking of an object and summoning it.

Isidore bit his lip. Was oil worth such a soft cloth? Mikolas surely knew its worth, otherwise he might have asked for several pots. He could sense no ill will from his new friend, and why would he? He had been so generous before, why try to swindle him now?

Finally, the farmer smiled. "I suppose that is fair. Will you have difficulty traveling with three pots though?" he asked. Mikolas' horse was already saddled with bags, but he wasn't sure if the three pots would be easily balanced.

Mikolas grinned. "I suppose we'll travel to your market space before making the trade then, in order to avoid ruining anything needlessly." He suggested smoothly.

It was a hidden objective for the god. He knew his horse and person suit screamed of wealth. People would see the two together and assume the farmer's goods were that valuable for such a wealthy patron to accompany him.

Isidore was agreeable to this plan, and the two continued their journey straight into the heart of the city. Striking up more conversation, Isidore was completely oblivious to the stares of the locals. In short time, the two arrived at the marketplace.

Isidore immediately set to relieving his oxen of their burdens, and Mikolas forced Panthera to take several steps back to allow the farmer to set up his tent and wares. He noted the wear and tear of the tarp but said nothing.

Isidore sighed and turned back to his new friend. "Thank you so much for everything my friend. I hope your negotiation is fruitful." He offered sincerely as he offered the three pots as promised.

Mikolas purchased a basket in order to better hold his new wares, and carefully placed the jars inside. "The same for you, dear friend. I'm certain we will cross paths again very soon. Ah, before I forget," he began rummaging through one of the pouches tied to Panthera. "Here, this should be worth those jars."

It was an intricately embroidered silk fan, dyed a soft green and had traces of yellow.

Isidore's eyes went wide as he held the fan like it would crumble at the slightest pressure. "By the gods this is far more generous than I expected. Surely you deserve more than three pots of oil for this!" he protested.

Now he knew Mikolas was being too kind. Oil had its value yes, but there's no way such a beautiful fan was worth a mere three pots. At the very least, it must be worth ten!

Mikolas let out a hearty laugh. "Nonsense! The price is fair and it's yours to do with as you please. Though I won't say no to a handful of olives." He admitted.

Isidore wanted to be exasperated, he truly did, but he couldn't be ungrateful for all the man had just done. Grabbing two handfuls and dumping them in Mikolas' basket, he gave a hard look that said he would not accept any back.

Mikolas relented, and with further warm wishes, the two finally parted. Isidore wasn't sure why he felt so disappointed at seeing Mikolas leave. Perhaps it was because he truly had grown close to the man, he was the closest thing to a friend he'd had on his travel, and after spending two days together, it had felt more like years of friendship.

The farmer was not left with his lonesome thoughts for long, however, as people immediately flocked his stall, curious about his friendship with such a wealthy man as well. They also wanted to buy his wares as a result, leaving the farmer with far more coin and far less supploes within two hours.

Isidore was almost shocked by how well he was doing this year. Granted, he always came home with a fair amount of money, but this year, people were willing to offer much higher prices, and he wasn't even low on supplies yet!

He struck up some conversation with his market neighbors, and they traded and ate amongst themselves when the customers thinned out with the rising heat. Isidore was proud to say his sisters would surely get their treats and his mother would have a new _himation [_ _ **cloak**_ _] for the winter months. she certainly needed it, as she grew horribly cold during those times._

When the afternoon rush came and went, Isidore carefully counted his money from inside his tarp. He had never received so much in one day before. In fact, he wasn't sure to do with it. His old pouch couldn't hold all the new coins, so he thought nothing of purchasing a larger one and using the old one to store his mother's new fan. After all, he actually could afford to do it.

He stopped there though. He couldn't get greedy just because he earned a little more coin than he had in the past. It needed to last his family for at least four or five more months before next market. Though at this point, he was sure they would be able to survive the colder months with actual comfort. Maybe even hire an indentured servant to help tend the house!

The farmer was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a horse's snort. Lo and behold, there was Mikolas smiling warmly from his steed.

"Mikolas!" Isidore blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here so late?" he pulled himself out of his tarp and instinctively pet Panthera above his snout. It was becoming the horse's favorite spot.

"My bartering ended well and far earlier than expected, so I thought I would drop by and see how you fared." He explained, sliding off the horse and looking over Isidore's stock. "I needn't have worried it seems. You have sold so much in one day already."

Isidore grinned sheepishly. "Indeed. I'm as surprised as you are." he admitted. "But on the bright side, I was able to purchase some amenities with plenty of extra coins to spare. I might not have anything left tomorrow to sell at this rate."

Mikolas blinked in surprise. "Don't say you'll be gone so soon I hope? All that travel for a mere two days of sales?" he pressed, sadness evident in his eyes.

Isidore shook his head, much to both their relief. "I doubt tomorrow will be as profitable. Most of my sales were before the mid-day meal, I'm sure most people bought enough they won't need to visit my stall again. I should likely be here for another two days at least." He assured.

Two days. Then Aether would keep his promise. How he was not sure, but he hoped the god actually kept his word, the farmer thought quietly to himself.

Meanwhile, Grimmjow heard that desperate plea in the farmer's head, and sighed. Today he had gone back to the heavens to see how Jinn was coming along with a remedy for his beloved's mother. She already had a potion for temporary relief but would need more time on the permanent cure. She was dealing with thousands of prayers to heal, and her kind heart couldn't ignore the pleas of so many in need just because Grimmjow wanted her help.

He understood, but it was still frustrating to wait. He wanted to see the joy in Isidore's eyes when he revealed the truth. Surely that reward would only come with the promised elixir in hand. The goddess assured him she was doing everything she could, and he knew it too. Jinn was known for forgoing sleep whenever she had a lot of prayers or projects in the making.

He hoped that meant she'd have the full cure within those two days. In the meantime, he offered a bright smile to hide his concerns.

"I'm glad to hear it! Have you found lodging for the night?" he asked out of curiosity. Most of the other merchants had already packed their things for the day.

Isidore shrugged. "The weather is nice enough. I wouldn't mind sleeping under the stars. It's rather nice." He lied. In truth, he was scared to waste too much money on an inn.

Grimmjow sighed inwardly at the mortal's foolish selflessness. Couldn't he let himself indulge just once?

But he couldn't offer him keep for tonight as well. To share on the way to the destination was one thing, it would be seen as creepy if he offered every night. He couldn't just leave him be though. Therefore, he let some of his concern show.

"The nights get rather cold. Do you at least have something to keep warm?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Isidore frowned as well. When was the last time someone who wasn't his family actually showed this much concern for him? He only had one friend, and Claas could be the same way. Perhaps friends were simply supposed to be like this.

Mikolas took the silence as his answer and sighed loudly, before walking towards a stall that hadn't quite closed up yet. Isidore craned his head but was immediately blocked by Panthera, who apparently wanted more head rubs.

The farmer chuckled and complied. "Your master is a silly one, worrying about lowly old me." He muttered and laughed again when the horse seemed to take offense. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just not used to all this kindness." He amended.

' _You little idiot! Can't you see how much we care about you_?' Panthera snarled, but the human could not hear him. So he nudged at him. ' _Fucking humans…treating one of their own like trash. And they wonder why I enjoy my job so much_.' He grumbled while nuzzling his cheek. Fuck, couldn't he just reveal themselves now? Isidore NEEDED proper care.

' _Right…reveal yourself as the god of darkness in the middle of the day…that will go well_.' Grimmjow dryly intercepted his more impulsive side, already finished with his business. ' _Two days Pan. Just two days. Don't make me absorb you, because I will if it keeps you from fucking up everything we've worked for._ ' He warned.

The horse-god huffed and pulled away when his 'master' clucked his tongue at him. Mikolas was revealed holding a recently purchased quilt and offered it to the shocked youth.

"I won't try and ask you to stay with me again. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. But I must insist on at least taking this. I'll sleep better knowing you are protected from the elements." He said, dropping the quilt into the other man's lap.

Isidore wanted to protest, really, but what could he do? The man already bought him a quilt! Try as he might, it felt incredibly comfortable, and Mikolas had a serious expression on his face. With a sigh, he resigned to a weary smile and thanked the man, who relaxed upon the gift being accepted.

"I thank you for this gift, but I must insist you not worry about me. I have braved the nights before." he scolded, a light scowl on his face. Odd, for someone who's scowl normally never left his face, this was the first he's done so since Mikolas came into his life.

Mikolas did not seem to be put off though, rather he smiled brightly. "It's in my nature to worry, I suppose." Panthera snorted as though in agreement.

' _Only to those you want a piece of_ ," he snickered.

A mental glare was sent his way for his troubles. ' _Quiet you_ ,' the entity of light warned.

Isidore, naturally, was oblivious to the quiet argument. "I suppose it is." He conceded, tipping his head respectfully. "Have a restful evening, Mikolas."

The wealthy merchant patted his horse, signifying it was time to move. "And the same for you, good friend. May you be just as profitable tomorrow." With that, the man jumped onto the horse and rode off.

Isidore chuckled and made to continue putting away his things. Another seller nearby laughed as well.

"Were I senile, I would have thought the lad was courting you." He teased.

The young farmer paused in his ministrations. Was Mikolas courting him? Surely not…why would a wealthy, well-traveled man like him want with a poor farmer? There was no shame in male lovers, but with such a distinctive class gap? Why was he even considering the notion?

This train of thought stuck with the young man for an entire day, between selling his wares. Mikolas must have noticed he was distracted, because he let him be that entire day. The farmer appreciated the sentiment, he needed some time to process what exactly was going on between him and the, admittingly, handsome merchant.

On the morning of his last day, the source of his newfound trepidations returned after he finished his morning prayers. He had very little stock left to his merchandise, and the new money pouch was coming close to its limits.

"Good morning." The raven-haired man greeted warmly, sliding off his horse gracefully.

The sunset haired man smiled back in return. "To you as well," he turned to look at the remainder of his supplies. "It has been quite a busy season for me. I can only hope the same applied for you?"

Mikolas grinned brightly. "Oh yes, it's been very profitable for me as well." he insisted. Panthera snorted in agreement beside him.

Jinn came through. Almost at the last minute, but she finished the all-cure just as the sun began to warm the Grecian island. Everything was falling into place for Grimmjow.

Isidore cocked his head in curiosity. In his short but well-acquainted time with Mikolas, the man failed to keep his excitement at bay, and would talk animatedly about something successful. Still, the man only smiled as though he held a tantalizing secret, so the young attempted to coax a response, to no avail.

Mikolas expertly dodged the subtle interest in his success, instead asking if the farmer needed help packing up the remainder of his oils and fruits. Isidore huffed but accepted the help.

"I will be leaving today after I stop by a carpenter to patch up my cart." He explained as he harnessed the oxen. "What about yourself?" he asked casually. After so many days together, it was only proper to say goodbye.

Mikolas hummed, crossing his arms in thought. "I was planning on stopping by Morgantina again to check in on old Agapios again. He is slowing with age, you see." Isidore nodded in understanding. "Perhaps we could travel together and part ways there?" Isidore tried not to notice how hopeful Mikolas sounded.

' _Perhaps he_ _ **is**_ _courting me_.' The farmer thought quietly. What to do with this information he didn't know, but he had to respond before the tension became uncomfortable.

"Sounds like we have our plans set for the day then." He smiled, much to the other man's relief. He really did enjoy having Mikolas for company, so being able to say farewell at a later time secretly made him glad as well…even if he would have to politely refuse the man's advances. He had his family to think of.

The disguised god was beside himself with excitement. They would stop shortly before reaching Morgantina and finally, **finally** , he would reveal himself. A week, which normally felt like a blink of an eye, finally crawled by and his time would come.

The cart didn't need too much repair, much to Isidore's relief. At the insistence of his friend, they ate lunch together and shopped around the market before leaving. It was the big city after all.

The farmer caved and bought himself new tools for his trees, and a pair of new sandals. He had plenty of money left over, and Mikolas insisted the farmer treat himself better or threatened to purchase the items himself. He got his sisters their treats, and his father some herbs for his medicine. Finally, he was ready to go.

The beginning of the trek to Morgantina was quiet. Around an hour later, Panthera became restless. ' _What the hell are you waiting for? There's no one else around…do it already!_ ' he huffed.

' _Not yet…I want the timing to be right._ ' Grimmjow shot back. He wanted the perfect opening. Something that wouldn't seem so unexpected.

Within ten minutes, his perfect chance appeared.

Isidore let out a small, disappointed sigh. Mikolas looked over to him in mild concern, pausing his story about his plans for later. "Is everything alright my friend? I'm not boring you I hope." He feigned concern.

Isidore waved his hands frantically. "Oh no! I'm so sorry for making you think that!" he insisted. "It's just…well…you recall that dream I told you about three days ago yes?" he offered lamely, so caught in his thoughts he never saw both horse and rider perk up at the explanation.

' _Told you waiting was worth it,_ ' Grimmjow thought smugly while maintaining his concerned human guise. "Yes, the one where Aether spoke directly to you?" he asked casually, slowing his horse to a complete stop. Isidore halted his oxen immediately afterwards.

He immediately crossed his arms. "Well…if everything I dreamt was to be true, I thought for sure a sign by the god himself would appear today. I followed the great Aether's simple request diligently, and he promised to have the answer to my mother's pains. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but am I wrong for being concerned?" he asked, looking over at his friend.

Mikolas smiled. "Perhaps he wants to be sure you never gave up hope. That is a trait of his after all." He pointed out. Okay, he might be teasing a little bit now.

Isidore's brow furrowed. "I…thought I had been. Perhaps I was too lax, or he did not take well to my moments of doubting his words." He fretted, anxiety welling up in him.

Grimmjow realized he was causing more harm than good and reached out to calm his beloved. "Isidore, relax. He hasn't forsaken you." He assured him.

The farmer gave him a miserable look. "How can you be so sure? Seven days and nights have passed. When does the waiting end?" he lamented, his head hanging limply. Seeing his soon to be so despondent was all Grimmjow needed to end the ruse.

"… _It ends now, Isidore of Kamarina_." He said soothingly, his voice gradually changing to his godly tone.

Isidore's head snapped up, and with wide eyes watched as the man he'd traveled and shared so many stories with melted away to reveal Grimmjow's true form.

"I…you…" the poor farmer stuttered in absolute shock. "But…Mikolas?" he managed, horribly confused.

Grimmjow smiled kindly. "Mikolas never existed," he admitted. "I was beside you this entire time, watching as you kept your promise. Forgive me for the delay, I had to ensure no other mortals were around."

Hope filled the mortal's eyes. "Lord Aether…" he breathed out, before realizing his grievous mistake of not showing respect. He made to kneel before the god but was halted by Grimmjow himself.

"Please, my friend, I wouldn't dare ask you to kneel for me. You've garnered too much of my respect for that." He insisted, before reaching into his brilliant, sky colored robes. "I believe this belongs to you."

Eyes as wide as the wheels of his cart, Isidore's trembling hands cradled the jar encasing a soft glowing liquid that sloshed ever so slightly. "The cure…" he breathed out, his relief washing over his face.

Grimmjow relished the expression, just as he knew he would. Isidore's happiness was infectious, and he broke out in a grin of his own. "As promised. I wouldn't dare leave someone so dedicated to their family to suffer." He assured.

Isidore's expression softened as he looked to the god who just changed his entire world. "How can I ever thank you?" he insisted, thinking back to Aether's strangely small request. There simply had to be another way to repay the god's unbelievable kindness.

The god heaved a sigh. "I will not hide it any longer, as you deserve to know." He began, a more serious look on his face. "Isidore, I had no idea who you were until a week ago. A fellow god informed me of your existence, which moved me to hear your plea." He admitted. Honesty was best in this situation.

Isidore furrowed his brow. "I'm…afraid I don't understand."

Grimmjow gave a kind look. "There is a mortal in Athens who just gave his theory on soulmates*," he began, much to the confusion of the farmer. "That mortal soulmates used to be fused together but were split by the gods out of fear and jealousy. Over time, the humans found their other half once again, and resumed their happiness. Of course, that tale is mostly ridiculous, but holds some traction.

"Soulmates are very much real, Isidore, and even us gods take the aspect very seriously," he continued. "Even we seek someone so near and dear to our hearts, that we are willing to wait hundreds, if not thousands of years to find that someone." He explained.

Something clicked. "And…you believe…I'm your soulmate?" he asked in astonishment. The god smiled and nodded, only to furrow his brows when the youth began laughing.

"I'm so sorry, I…I mean you no disrespect lord Aether," he managed after a few chuckles. "But surely you must have been guided to the wrong person. I am just a lowly farmer." He protested, a sad smile on his face. "A poor, horribly colored farmer. Someone as beautiful as you deserves an equally handsome soulmate." He reasoned.

Grimmjow scowled. "You little fool, can you not see your own beauty? Had I not assured you there were so many others with similar coloring? You are not a freak Isidore." He huffed.

Isidore's own face hardened. "Really? Mikolas was only a ruse. How can I know for sure anything you said disguised as him was real?" he shot back, only vaguely realizing he was arguing with someone vastly more powerful than him.

Grimmjow sighed in exasperation. "Would you have honestly taken me seriously as I am now? A god appearing out of nowhere long before he was expected to? My experiences were real, Isidore, only altered to fit the journey. And that includes everything I said about you. Everything." He insisted.

The farmer swallowed thickly. "I…I'm too strange. I have nothing to offer you." He replied weakly, cowering at the intensity of the god's stare.

The immortal smiled kindly once again. "I don't ask much of you, Isidore. Only to allow me a chance to properly court you." He offered gently. Getting angry at him wasn't his plan, but he never expected the youth to doubt him.

Isidore wrapped his arms around himself, as though protecting himself from a blow. "I…I don't know what to do," he confessed. He was scared; for years he thought he was unlovable, now an ancient god was offering to court him?

Grimmjow crossed his arms, silently planning his next move. "Please do not feel you must choose me over your mother's health," he said suddenly, causing the farmer to flinch. "Whether you accept my proposal or not, the cure is yours." He declared.

Cradling the potion against his chest, Isidore gave another wide-eyed look. He actually had a choice? Idly, the farmer thought back to the morning he awoke next to 'Mikolas,' and how…strangely right it had felt.

He swallowed thickly once again. "What happens if I accept your courting?" timidly he avoided the god's expression, unsure what he'd see.

Hope rose in Grimmjow's chest. "Very little will change in the beginning," he admitted. "You are free to continue tilling the land and caring for your family as you wish. Twice a week, however, I would come to court you properly. You would also be given a personal summoning relic, so you may call on me at any time."

"Summoning…relic?" Isidore raised an eyebrow dubiously.

The god nodded. "A calling card if you will," he explained, only to receive another blank look. "You can call for me when holding it, and I will appear within moments."

Isidore nodded, having been clarified. "And how…long would this courting last?" he wondered, still slightly unsure.

Grimmjow smiled. "Not terribly long. Perhaps until Gamelion? That way you have plenty of time to make up your mind. Of course, you could always accept or refuse me sooner than that." He added.

Gamelion…huh? That would be…roughly four months from now. Four months of courting from a god twice a week…in hindsight it did not seem so terrible. Normal courting periods lasted several months, perhaps gods just had a shorter patience for such things.

He was still a little miffed at being deceived, but even that made sense. Plus, there was no denying he was attracted to the beautiful god so…

Isidore sighed quietly to himself before smiling shyly. "As undeserving of this honor as I am," he began, before the deity could protest. The farmer knelt down respectfully. "I would be truly honored to accept your proposal."

The entire world suddenly appeared brighter, the god couldn't control his excitement. With a belly laugh, the god summoned the farmer directly into his arms and held him tight. "You won't regret this Isidore, this I assure you." He stated warmly, his eyes burning blue crystals.

Isidore laughed as he allowed himself to relax against the god's chest. Panthera let out a cheerful whinny in the background, startling the farmer.

"Ah, is Panthera your celestial horse then?" he asked curiously, pulling away slightly to observe the horse better.

Grimmjow scowled at the loss of attention. "Him? Not at all, he's just something I borrowed from a friend for the journey." He explained nonchalantly before dismissing his other half.

" _You mother fuc-!"_ was all the irate darkness god could say before being sent back to the underworld. Grimmjow snickered at his twin's fury. He really should have known better; the gods had agreed amongst themselves they should wait before revealing his other half to the god.

Isidore pouted. "Oh, what a shame. I rather liked him." He pondered out loud before pulling away from the god. "Well…what happens now?" he asked.

Grimmjow grinned. "I bring you home for starters. No point in wasting the rest of the day away." He explained, before his eyes flashed an electric color. Before Isidore could blink, the two of them and his borrowed oxen were on the outskirts of his family's farm.

While Isidore marveled at the god's teleportation ability, Grimmjow took off a necklace he'd been wearing underneath his robes. Imbuing it with some power, he then turned to the still mesmerized youth.

"Please accept this as my first gift." He said, holding out the jewelry. Isidore hesitantly bowed his head to let the god place it around his neck. He quietly appreciated the weight and coolness of the piece. "This will be your summoning relic. You simply have to grasp the center stone and call out my name." he elaborated.

Isidore's eyes widened. "Tru-truly?" he stammered. "I simply have to say Aether and you will appear?" he asked innocently.

Grimmjow bark out a laugh at his mortal's genuine innocence. "Ah, perhaps I am not being fair by laughing, but I have my reasons," he explained at the farmer's confused expression. "Aether is the name I gave for the Greeks to call me. You may call me by my true name whenever we are not around others."

The mortal blinked. "True name?" he repeated, the notion of having more than one name lost to him.

"All the gods choose to do so, you see," The deity explained. "Some have names you mortals simply cannot pronounce or prefer not to share unless with someone important. I fall into the latter category." He smiled. "From now on, whenever we are alone or in the company of other gods, you may call me Grimmjow."

"Grimm…xiao…?" Isidore tried it out slowly, frowning at the difficulty.

The aforementioned god chuckled. "Grimm-jow." He repeated slowly but clearly.

Isidore smiled softly. "I understand…gri-Grimmjow. I thank you generously for your kindness." He bowed his head softly.

The god shook his head. "And I you, for I enjoyed these past two days better than I had for several hundred years. Enjoy your day, Isidore. I shall return for you soon enough." He lifted the other man's free hand to press his lips to it, before fading away.

The farmer's face turned red before he wondered if heat stroke caused him to imagine these things. The cool feel of the necklace proved him wrong though, and with a smile towards the sky, he guided the oxen the rest of the way home.

Grimmjow watched him with an equally large grin and finally returned to the heavens. He had a courtship to prepare for.

…..

 **AWTG: OMG I'm finally done! *Wheeze* I'm so sorry for the delay. I really am. I graduated, then immediately found employment. It's been hard finding time to work on my stories. Not to worry; I haven't forgotten about you guys. I'll try to produce the next chapter soon, but no promises.**

 **Please let me know if the wait was worth it. I appreciate all your reviews. Thanks!**

 **~Ciao!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: Hello everyone! I'm back! I'm so flattered by everyone's praises on the last chapter. Forgive me for taking so long to write this one. Anyhow, I've tried to make a goal of writing at least 10,000 words per chapter. It's long, but this story isn't going to have as many chapters as, say, AO. Of course, it's going to move much faster. So let's get back to it!**

 **Chapter Warnings: Slight angst, hilarity, flirting/courting, Second Date! tiny history lesson, boost of self-esteem, swearing (Panthera strikes back), cuteness**

 **Chapter IV**

…

Isidore stood in front of his family home, unsure how to explain his sudden fortune. Should he outright admit to be courted by a god? It wasn't unusual for the gods to take human lovers (Gaia knows how many Zeus has taken over the years), but he still struggled with knowing a god fancied him.

"I'm home," he called out as he walked in. Iason looked up from his herbs in surprise.

"Isidore! Is everything alright? Was there trouble in the city?" He asked, troubled by how quickly his son had returned. They hadn't expected him back for another two or three days.

The farmer smiled gently. "Everything is…wonderful," he admitted. He still wasn't sure if he should explain everything all at once, so he began with the lesser of the great news. "I sold practically everything within two days. I was even able to purchase some necessities afterwards."

Iason was overjoyed at the news, and impressed by the comfortable looking quilt his son showed him; Mannara would love the gift and the whole family would relax knowing she'd be comfortable during the colder months.

"By Zeus though…I've never seen you bring back so much coin!" he announced, eyes wide at the (much larger) money pouch filled nearly to the brim. "My boy, which god did you pray to in order for such fortune to smile down upon us?" he asked, utterly astonished.

Isidore chuckled softly. "Quite a few honestly. Naturally I prayed to Athena," he began. Iason nodded; he knew his son chose her as his patron. "But I also prayed to the god of luck and even Aether." He added, cleverly realizing how he can bring up the potion (safely hidden in his clothes) which would answer all their prayers.

Iason squinted in confusion. "Aether? The god of light? I…don't quite understand," he managed, clearly confused. He's prayed to many gods himself, but he's never honestly thought to pray to the god of light for anything before.

Isidore held out his hands. "He is more than the god of light father," he countered. "Aether is also the god connected to dedication. My desire to care for our family spoke to him, and he even commended me in the flesh for my resolution." He declared, pulling out Aether…no…Grimmjow's amulet as proof.

Iason's eyes were almost the size of plates once he gazed upon the grand necklace. "My son was blessed by a god…" he breathed out in astonishment.

Isidore's smile widened. "There is even better news," he admitted, pulling out the precious potion. "He commended my commitment to our family, and upon hearing my plea to save mother, commissioned Asclepius to create a cure. Mother will live!"

With trembling hands, Iason received the potion from his son, before promptly falling to his knees in reverence. "By the heavens…a truer miracle could not be conceived!"

The two men laughed at their new fortune before launching into a quick discussion of how to break the news to the women of the house. They agreed to share the news over dinner, and present the potion to the ailing matriarch then and there.

Isidore could hardly hold his excitement when for when dinner finally rolled around later that night. He had gone back to his olive trees to check their condition, and smiled when he saw a cluster of bright blue irises, the same as the ones left in his room, had been placed at the bottom of one of his trees.

They looked so much like the god's true hair and eyes, he thought to himself as he tenderly cradled the bouquet. He sighed, and placed them carefully in the shade before returning to his work of tending his trees.

Later that afternoon, he returned the oxen to Claas, who he proudly shared the secret behind his new amulet. Unlike with his father, he shared the courting interest as well.

Claas blinked in surprise and stroked his beard. "By the gods above and below, this is incredible!" he exclaimed, a small feat for a man normally so unperturbed. "I must apologize; Isidore, I should have never doubted your premonitions." He added with a guilty smile.

The redheaded farmer laughed and waved his hand. "Think nothing of it, we have prospered despite the doubts after all," he soothed. It was almost impossible for bring his mood down today. Too many wonderful things went on.

Claas nodded, smiling as well. "Indeed. To think after all these years of feeling undesirable, you would be courted by a god. A powerful, ancient one at that. Such an honor can never be taken lightly." He praised.

Isidore chuckled, ruffling his trademark hair. "Indeed, and to think there are even others out there who share my strange coloring. It is a great relief to know I was not cursed by a wicked spirit or demon of any sorts." He admitted.

Claas gave him a soft look. "Isidore, you are far too good a person to have been cursed by a spirit." He said warmly. "Is your new fortune not proof enough? To hold the favor of a god speaks highly of what your character proves. I could not be happier for you, my friend."

Isidore's smile seemed permanently etched to his face. "Thank you kindly for your words, Claas. I am lucky to have such a caring friend such as yourself."

Claas's face warmed slightly; the gentle giant was very humble. "Ah, I suppose now would be a fortuitous time to give you Herms. We never did complete my part of the trade." He realized.

Isidore hummed. "Oh! I completely forgot about him. Are you really, truly sure you want to give him to our family?" he asked, just to be 100 percent sure. Claas huffed and gave him a look. "Alright, alright! I had to ask!" he insisted, laughing at his friend's exasperation.

The mixed blooded man sighed. "Only you would try to back out of a trade for your benefit," he accused lightly, to which the farmer looked away with a guilty expression. "Cannot be helped I suppose; it's your nature to be wary of asking for too much. I wonder how this godly suitor of yours will handle that."

Isidore chuckled awkwardly. "Very persistently so far. While under the guise of a human, he chastised me often for overlooking my own health or interests for the sake of money or my family," he admitted. "He traded many valuable things to me for far less than they were worth, similar to you, I might note."

Claas laughed. "True, but I never secretly intended to court you from the process," he teased, earning a hard punch to his arm. "Though I can guess why he would do so. I do not believe he was trying to flaunt his wealthy by trading carelessly. He wanted to aid you with material things to prove himself as a caretaker. Even a god wishes to prove their worth to those they care for." He reasoned.

Isidore crossed his arms, the pendent brushing against them. "I suppose, but I've always been poor. I have no desire for shows of excessive wealth through materialistic displays or anything like that. I'm happy with bare needs." He pointed out.

Grimmjow, who had been watching his new consort from afar, listened carefully to the conversation. So…his lover wasn't about glitz and glam? That's fine; he knew several courting measures he could take without going overboard with gifts that would overwhelm the humble man.

Come to think of it, Isidore seemed like the person who would appreciate personal and well thought out acts over flashy displays. Being without money left him understandably mindful of it, yet he wasn't consumed by need of it.

He was more flattered by the thoughtful gifts Mikolas had given him for the sake of his family. He already knew he wanted to give Isidore's family the rewards they deserved, such offering his sister the chance to work her dream craft and a better home. As a result, he believed doing so would end in his favor to further court his beautiful redhead.

"To be honest, I simply take relief that I was capable of attracting someone's attention," Isidore said, bringing Grimmjow out of his musing. "So many years of being warily judged for my strange appearance left me less than proud of myself, as you well know." Isidore added, a sad smile reappearing.

Grimmjow frowned; he was doubting his appeal yet again. What would it take for his little redhead to stop loathing himself? Immediately after the thought, an idea crossed the immortal's mind, and he bit back a chuckle. Let the boy wallow for now; he'll have no reason to do so in the very near future.

Claas seemed to feel the same way. "Isidore, again I ask is this not proof of your worth?" he reminded, a frown setting on his face. "Why would a god waste his time wooing a person they had no interest in? Clearly, the great Aether believes you are worthy of his time and attention, lest he have simply answered your prayers for healing and left from there." He pointed out.

Oh, if he wasn't hiding himself, he'd give the man a hearty slap on the back, offer him fine ale and loudly agree with him, Grimmjow thought with a wry smile. Few as his friends may be, Isidore had loyal companions.

Of course, that was easier said than done. More than two decades of isolation and being branded the black sheep of society left him constantly demeaning himself and doubting his values. The deity knew it would be impossible to remove Isidore's paranoia and low self esteem in one night, hell, it might take a few years to truly overcome his doubts.

He _would_ start tonight though. His courtship will plant the seeds of self-worth in his new beloved. It might take some time for the youth to adjust to his methods, but rest assured, the boy would learn to love himself for his unique beauty and talents the way Grimmjow did.

…..

Isidore returned home later that day with Herms in tow. The grouchy goat walked with a surprising spring to his step for his age, and the farmer thought back to its former owner, how Claas scolded him over and over to not question his own good fortune.

He wondered if Aeth… _Grimmjow_ would have scolded him as well he thought sheepishly as he tied the goat to his new home.

That night, everyone rejoiced their overall good fortunes with the cure immediately given to Mannara during dinner. Karin and Yalena kept pestering him, trying to coax more information about the god who visited his dreams and then traveled with him to Syracuse. They were still so young, he thought fondly as he laid in his cot.

Perhaps he would take advantage of his consortship to plead with his god to ensure his sisters met good men to marry. They would be old enough within a year or so. Hm…his god…he somewhat enjoyed the notion that Grimmjow was exclusively his, despite how selfish it sounded. Bah, he's earned some selfishness, he wagered, before he relaxed and allowed himself to fall asleep.

However, instead of his normal dreamless sleep, he found himself in what appeared to be a grassy plain, with the ocean stretched out in front of him. How he knew it was the ocean he wasn't sure, but he knew it was. The sun apparently hasn't set yet, though he swore it had.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a familiar voice called out behind him. Isidore whipped around in shock, revealing the god of light in all his glory. Grimmjow chuckled at the mortal's confused expression.

"Grim…jow…" he managed slowly, wincing at the poor pronunciation. "Where are we?" he asked, trying to ignore the ancient god's snort of amusement.

Grimmjow couldn't help himself: his consort was so damned cute trying and failing to say his real name. "We're in what the natives of this island call _Eire_ [ **AN: Ireland BC** ]. It's far cooler than Crete so I took the liberty to give you more appropriate clothing." He explained, almost in apology for intruding on him.

Isidore blinked and looked down. He wore strange, brightly colored garments. The tunic was familiar in pattern, but it was a color that imitated the ground, a bright shade of green that reached his thighs. The bottom garments were unusual in texture and a color much darker than Grimmjow's hair. Wrapped around him was a cloak lined with warm fur, though he could not place it.

When he looked up, Isidore realized Grimmjow had changed his clothing as well. A cloak the color of blood graced his muscular frame, and he wore dark leggings that clung to his skin. Belatedly, he realized the god was grinning at him, giving him a once over as well.

The farmer coughed and glanced away in unease. "I appreciate your consideration. However, why are we here?" he asked, taking in the expanse of water once again.

The god chuckled. "We are here, because there is something I dearly want you to see. I believe you will find yourself enamored with this isle despite its foreignness," he offered, conjuring his, very cross, twin back in stallion form.

Isidore's eyes lit up. "Ah! Your stallion!" he cried out cheerfully, happily rubbing the horse's snout, which Panthera encouraged enthusiastically.

' _Told you he'd miss me, asshole_ ,' The darker god muttered to his other half, which Grimmjow dutifully ignored.

"He truly has taken a liking to you. Less than a day, and he persisted and whined for your company." The light god explained. And how…the bastard bitched at him to no end about how unfairly he banished him without a proper goodbye.

Isidore laughed as he embraced the horse by the neck. "Nonsense; a beautiful beast such as this cannot be so childish." He announced, to which Panthera preened.

' _Baby_ _Boy already likes me more,_ ' the horse shifted god taunted in a sing-song voice. ' _Take that you self-absorbed fucker_!' he snorted as he purposely drew out a long lick against the farmer's neck.

Grimmjow's eye twitched at the baiting and coolly put himself between their soulmate and his lecherous brother. "Trust me, even a seasoned stallion can be found to brood. But let us not waste too much time. The sun will set if we linger too long." He suggested, helping his beloved onto the horse's back.

Some telepathic threats had to be made, a quiet war between the brothers as Panthera childishly refused to let Grimmjow climb on, still sore about being left out earlier. Isidore couldn't help but laugh at the god's frustration; even gods could feel it, he supposed.

"You clearly can use magic to take us anywhere, why did you insist on bringing Panthera once again if you have that power in the first place?" he asked in amusement.

Grimmjow huffed before pinning his brother with a look. "True this may be, I felt you would appreciate the scenery of a new country before we reach our destination and again, the horse was fond of you, so I took his pleas into consideration." He answered somewhat curtly, mostly towards his unruly other half.

Panthera snorted, feeling thoroughly chastised, allowed the god onto his back with a halfhearted apology.

Isidore chuckled, oblivious to it all. "I take it you can understand the language of animals then?" he asked as they set off.

"Hmm? Ah, I suppose so," He hummed. "Most gods can understand the tongue of all creatures, with a few exceptions. I believe a few child gods are actually better at the craft since they have less responsibilities and tend to listen to creatures more sincerely."

"I suppose that makes sense. As a god, you would need to understand all people's speech to answer their prayers," Isidore reflected as he did, in fact, appreciate the scenery around him.

For a while, god and man were silent as they walked through the lush forests, so different from the landscape Isidore was used to in Crete. The only sounds were that of nature around them and the steady footfall of Panthera's hooves.

"…So as the god of light, you must travel to countless countries to perform your work, yes?" Isidore asked suddenly. Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow at the odd question.

"Indeed, but not for that reason. I am god of light, but my job is mostly providing the heavenly air for the other immortals and gods in our residence above the clouds. Apollo is the one who carries the light for you mortals to see. Why?" he asked cautiously.

The farmer shrugged. "I was just thinking back to those stories you regaled me with disguised as a human. I can't help but yearn to have such worldly experiences." He admitted.

Grimmjow chuckled as he tugged the mortal closer to his chest. "Fear not…I can make that desire a reality. This is not be the only country outside of Greece I will take you to. Rest assured of that." He said warmly.

Isidore became flustered briefly at being pressed so close to the ancient being, but upon feeling how warm he was, and how comfortable the sensation made him, relented with a soft sigh.

"What is your favorite country, Grimm...jow?" he asked shyly. Saying his name was still a struggle, but it was becoming easier over time.

The deity laughed. "Such a difficult question! There are so many, and they all have endearing qualities with different kinds of people and personalities and cultures throughout the years," he deflected jovially before a devious grin spread while Isidore couldn't see. "Though I would have to say, I'm feeling rather particular to Crete at the moment."

As he revealed his thoughts, the god gently took Isidore's left hand, turned it inward toward him, and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Flushed a brilliant shade of red, Isidore coughed loudly to try and hide his embarrassment, albeit poorly. Despite this, he never attempted to remove the god's grip from his hand.

…

The three soon made their way to a strange town where the homes and buildings seemed to be built directly into the earth and shaped like circles. Grimmjow explained that building the homes into the dirt helped the inhabitants stay warm in the winters and cool in the summers. It made sense, though they still looked so bizarre.

Soon, they grew close enough that they could soon see people. Isidore gulped, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"What is wrong, Isidore?" Grimmjow asked, noticing how tense he had become.

"…" the farmer couldn't speak, instead finally pulling away from Grimmjow to cover his head with the hood attached to the cloak. Grimmjow understood and chuckled, pulling the hood off.

"No, no…there is no need for that. Take a good look at the inhibitors of this land." He admonished softly with a smile.

Reluctantly, the farmer did as the god requested, and his eyes widened in shock.

In the not so distance, a small group of children were playing a game of sorts. They wore the same strange garments as the two men were, only not so brightly colored or lined with furs, which must mean they were either peasant children, or did not see the need to wear such.

What really caught his eye, however, was their hair coloring. Some of the children had hair either the right shade of gold or just a touch or so lighter, reminding him of the early morning sun. Such brightly colored hair was rare to him, and he could not help but find it stunning.

However, what really surprised him were the many children who had hair _**exactly like his**_. Various shades of red-yellow flitted across the fields as the children happily played their game. Some were girls, and their hair was long and decorated with various flowers or even braided in intricate styles. The boys wore their hair in a circular fashion, both the golden haired and the red-yellow ones.

The strangest thing of all was the lack of fear or sadness in the children with the unusual colored hair. They laughed. They played. They sang and dance with the other children without persecution. Moreover, the other children did not shun or mock them for their unusual colors. Isidore watched with wide eyes as he realized exactly why Grimmjow brought him to the country of Eire.

"You wished to cut down my sadness over my strange hair coloring by showing it isn't so strange after all, didn't you?" he breathed, turning towards the god only to blink in surprise.

Grimmjow had slightly changed his features to blend into the country better. His skin was slightly paler, and he now sported a pale gold hair coloring with accompanying facial hair. His hair was much longer now, and plaited not un-similar to the way the children wore theirs.

Isidore blinked in surprise. "Eh? You changed so quickly." He muttered in awe. Grimmjow chuckled. Isidore hadn't noticed he too changed; Grimmjow gently lightened his skin to blend in better.

"My power to transform is infinite so I may blend into whichever culture I traverse to," the primordial god explained. "It would not do to appear with darker skin and hair. Such coloring is considered a savage here. In fact, you are a better foreigner here than say, your friend Claas, who would be feared for his darker appearance."

Isidore was in awe once more. "Ah, wait! How did you know about Claas? I don't believe I spoke about him to you." He asked in surprise.

Grimmjow briefly panicked; shit, Isidore would definitely feel uncomfortable knowing he was watched in secret. "Ah, but you did: you simply thought I was Mikolas, remember? I asked you about your family and friends and he was the one who loaned you the oxen, am I correct?" he smoothly corrected, despite Isidore never actually mentioning Claas's name during the trip.

Isidore blinked in surprise. Ah, that must have happened. He simply did not remember. Sheepishly the human apologized and turned back to the children. "Still, I cannot believe you did all this for me." He admitted.

"How did…how did you know this vexatious hair was bothering me?" he managed to ask softly.

Grimmjow smiled and patted the young man on the shoulder. "You are my soulmate, I won't have you cursing the gifts you were blessed with. This 'vexatious hair' is nothing of the sort," he declared, running his hand gently through it to prove his point.

Isidore flinched at the initial touch, but upon realizing there was no pain following, held still as Grimmjow continued to shower praise upon him, never once removing his hand from his hair.

"You are handsome in a way no other Grecian man can imitate," Grimmjow continued. "Humans tend to either eschew or venerate the extraordinary. The gods are admired for their power despite their appearances, and the ordinary man with unusual or rare gifts can be spurned in misguided fear."

Here he chuckled. "Tell me, were you disgusted by my true appearance? My hair matches the color of the sky after all. Far more bizarre than you could ever be seen as," he teased.

Isidore turned to him in alarm, forcing the god to remove his hand from his hair lest he accidentally harm him. "Never! The color, though admittedly never seen before, is stunning on you!" he insisted, sincerity in his eyes. "It suits you far more than when you approached me as Mikolas, and even then, you were beautiful!" he added, looking away in slight embarrassment after his outburst.

Grimmjow felt a surge of pride and endearment for his lover, who blatantly admitted his wholehearted attraction to him and kissed his love's side of the neck, causing the man to sputter in surprise.

' _Tch_ ,' Panthera chuckled darkly. ' _He thinks your fairy-looking ass looks good, wait till he sees_ _ **this**_ _drop-dead gorgeous package,_ ' he taunted, only to snort in pain when Grimmjow roughly squeezed his sides with his legs, Isidore blissfully unaware.

"You are feared in Greece for your unusual coloring, but here, you are no different from anyone else, if not tanned from exposure to the sun," he continued, ignoring Panthera's darkly growled out, ' _Fucker_.' "What is strange and frightening in one place is normal or even desired in another. You have no reason to be ashamed of who you are, Isidore. Make no mistake on this." Grimmjow said seriously, though his eyes were kind.

Isidore felt a burning in his eyes and he turned away to furiously wipe at them. He couldn't cry. He hadn't cried in years. Crying was weakness, and he'd be damned if he cried in front of another person, much less an all-powerful deity.

Thankfully, Grimmjow seemed to understand, and he simply squeezed the mortal's shoulder, and a peaceful moment passed while Isidore recollected himself. "Would you like to get closer? Worry not about the language barrier; I will guide you if needed." The god promised.

Isidore looked longingly at the children; he had never had a childhood to speak of due to his neighbors being frightened of him. "Can we?" he asked hopefully.

There was so much he wanted to learn and explore. Were there adults here that looked like him? What other things were there to be seen? Were there other cultures similar to this one? How come the scenery was so vividly colored? So many questions swirled within his mind, and the curious mortal excitedly yearned to find the answers.

Sensing his mortal lover's enthusiasm, Grimmjow chuckled and urged Panthera forward. The darkness god was tempted to drop his brother's ass and run off with their shared love, but the youth nestled himself closer to the god with a warm smile on his face, much to Panthera's disappointment.

Meanwhile, the children who were playing in the field stopped upon seeing the magnificent horse.

"By Dagda! I've never seen such a glorious beast!" one of them exclaimed loudly, his eyes shining with wonder. Isidore was in awe at the child's tone; it was light and musical, but the strangest part was he could understand him perfectly.

Grimmjow laughed heartily as he eased the three of them to a halt. "Quite a beast isn't he lad?" he answered, his voice taking on that strange melodious sound. "Still quite the youth though, so don't go prodding where you shouldn't!" he warned.

Panthera held quite still as the boys awed over his size and the girls shyly touched his pure black coat. He hardly minded; he actually had a bit of a soft spot for kids. Him and Grimmjow for that matter. They were mostly innocent creatures, and their lightheartedness drew both gods in, refreshed by their purity and lamenting the knowledge several could end up in the underworld as cursed souls.

"Does he have a name, great chieftain?" another child asked as he too braved a touch.

Grimmjow chuckled at the title. "Aye, but he doesn't belong to a chieftain, that's for darned sure." He teased as he slid off the horse and offered a hand to the still stunned Isidore. "Nay, he's but the horse of a humble warrior like myself." He offered modestly.

Isidore idly noted how easy it was for Grimmjow to spin such tales with ease. Now it made sense why he was easily allured by Mikolas' tales. With a start he noticed some of the children were staring at him.

' _Feel free to speak to them, Isidore. I have ensured you can understand and speak their tongue while we are here._ ' Grimmjow mentally soothed him while continuing to talk about some great battles he's seen to the boys.

Several of them seemed to be scrutinizing him. "You don't seem to be a warrior sir," one girl with hair just like his took note. "What skills do you have?" she asked, a small frown of curiosity on her face.

Isidore smiled softly, and trusted Grimmjow's words. "Indeed. I am not a warrior." He admitted, the sound strange coming from his throat but effortless in execution. "I am actually a…herder." He wasn't sure what compelled him to say that instead of farmer, but it seemed to fit for this strange world.

Grimmjow nodded behind him. "Indeed! This man raises some of the most powerful horses I've ever seen in my life. He's hired me to come with him to scope out some potential fillies to raise into chariot wielders." He explained.

Chariots? By the gods, he was making them off to sound so wealthy! Isidore blinked in surprise before going along with it. "Yes! Would you happen to know if any mares have reared foals around here?" he asked the young girls with a smile.

The girls tittered with excitement; a herder in their quaint little town, how surprising! The boys seemed equally impressed. A golden-haired boy, however, seemed less enthused.

"There aren't many horses around here. Far too expensive for our village," the boy said sadly. That really put a damper on the rest of the children's' moods; surely the two men would leave now.

Isidore adored children himself; they were less likely to mock his strange hair unless told to by their elders. These kids especially seemed less likely to mock him so.

"What game were you playing just now?" he asked. The light came back to most of their eyes.

"Just a simple game of Rats n' Rabbits*," the redheaded girl piped up. Isidore furrowed his brow and she gasped. "What? Don't tell me you've never heard of it?!" she asked, visibly horrified.

The false herder gave a sheepish look. "No, I can't say I have," he admitted. Even as a child himself, he was excluded from several games. Even if the Greeks had a similar game to this rats and rabbits, he wouldn't have been allowed to join.

The children pulled away to chat amongst themselves. Isidore looked to Grimmjow, who only chuckled and patted the horse on its head. Somehow, to Isidore, it looked like even Panthera was amused. Within moments the ringleader of them all, the tallest boy with hair just his shade gave him quite the serious look.

"We insist you join us. Everyone should play Rats n' Rabbits at least once in their lives!" he said sternly. Apparently, games were taken seriously around this country.

Isidore laughed and agreed. As the children gathered around him to explain the rules, Grimmjow had a quiet conversation with his twin.

' _This was a good idea; don't you think Pan?_ ' he asked as he leaned against the horse disguised god. As two parts of the same whole, there were plenty of times they got along just fine. This was one of those times.

Panthera snorted, both as a horse and a god. ' _I'll say. Look how happy he is. I bet he never got to play games as a child himself._ ' He noted sadly as he watched Isidore appease the children, who were arguing over whether he should be on Team Rat or Team Rabbit.

The disguised god of light sighed, and nodded. ' _Unfortunately, so_ ,' he agreed, smiling for show as the children resumed their game with the red-haired man joining them. ' _His early life was filled with cruelty and strife. Such an unfitting fate for one named Strong Gift.'_ he noted quietly.

Panthera shook his head. ' _Nah, I think it's the opposite, brother of mine,_ ' he argued. ' _He persevered despite the cruelty and even rose above becoming someone embittered with hatred to others. He mistrusts many people yes, but overall, he's kind and generous to a fault. He lives up to his name in full.'_ The darker deity decided.

Grimmjow tore his eyes away from his lover to gaze into his brother's visage, which he could see beyond the horse façade. "You've grown so much in the course of a mortal week Pan," he noted out loud. No one else would have noticed; the children and Isidore were having far too much fun playing their game.

Panthera ducked his head, slightly embarrassed. ' _The fuck you talking about? I've always been flawless_ ,' he bragged with false courage. The light deity pointedly did not call him out on it. The 'horse' pawed at the ground. ' _Maybe I want to meet him too. The right way…not as a damned transportation service._ ' He admitted.

Grimmjow sighed sadly, his heart sinking for the sake of his brother. ' _I know you do Pan. I'm not trying to be greedy,_ ' he soothed, rubbing the top of his twin's head. ' _Give me just a bit more time. I want him to be comfortable before I throw the shock of having not one god lover, but two._ _Not many humans entertain the thought of having two lovers. It's a practice done only by the incredibly wealthy in some cultures, and even then, it's not practiced often._ ' He pointed out.

Panthera hummed quietly, both brothers grinning as Isidore dramatically fell, captured by the Rats, laughing loudly as he did. ' _Yeah, stupid human ethics and modesty rules_.' He grumbled, still amused by the games playing out in front of him. ' _Grim…You think he'll be scared of me_?' he asked softly.

The primordial god of light's smile faded as he processed his brother's question. 'Don't talk like that,' he chastised. ' _I said he'd be scared of you without a chance to get comfortable with the life of a divine soulmate. Everything is too new and strange for him right now. I don't want to overwhelm him and well…you have a knack for doing just that Pan._ ' He reasoned.

The god in disguise ducked his head again, knowing fully well he did tend to go overboard with plenty of things, before looking back at their shared lover. ' _I know…but maybe he'll see past my job and appearance,_ ' he thought hopefully before grinning. ' _Who knows? Maybe he'll decide I'm the better twin_.' He teased as Isidore joined the Rats this time.

' _Fuck you, and to think I was feeling sympathetic to you right now._ ' Grimmjow snorted. Panthera snickered.

'Fucking a horse?' he asked in mock horror. 'You take your Western culture changes so seriously!' he teased as the other god gave him a deadpan look.

' _This is Eire, idiot! Loki is a Norse god and you know damn well I don't take that title, dumbass._ ' He hissed out as the games seemed to be coming to a close. Panthera just laughed from his equine veneer.

Meanwhile, Isidore was having a wonderful time. The game was rather simple; one team chased the other and tried to capture all the members unless someone shouted the opposite team's mascot and started over. The children insisted he play on both sides to see which he liked better.

Grimmjow clapped his hands once it seemed the group was taking a short breather. "I hate to be the bearer of bad new, sire, but we should head into town to gather supplies and get back to our journey. Night will fall soon enough," he suggested, taking back his warrior persona.

The children whined and begged for one more game, but Isidore simply smiled, thanked them for including him and insisted it was the best game he's ever played. Begrudgingly they waved the three of them off as they drew closer to the village.

Isidore chuckled as he waved at the children. "That truly was the most fun I've had playing a simple game." He said earnestly. He was panting lightly from the exertion, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but it only made him appear to glow with his enchanting smile.

Grimmjow laughed. "Glad to hear it. It was certainly worth it to see you having fun as you did. You are quite popular with the children around here," he teased, as some of the kids chased after them for a few feet to wave farewell just a little longer.

Isidore rubbed the back of his head, slightly abashed. "I had no idea how much fun it could be to be like a child. It was nice. They seemed to like you as well, so enthralled with your warrior tales," He teased before a thought came to him. "Say, Grimm…jow…how do you feel about children honestly?" he asked, offering his best innocent curiosity look.

Grimmjow had the decency to look guilty about spinning wild tales again before he registered Isidore's question. "Hmm? I enjoy their games and imagination as much as the next person I suppose. Why do you ask?" he tilted his head in slight confusion.

Quietly filing the adorable image away for later, Isidore looked down at Panthera's mane. "Do you…have any?" he asked quietly. He wasn't sure why, but he dreaded the answer, yet he had to know at the same time.

Understanding dawned on Grimmjow and he heaved a sigh. The dreaded ex talk, he realized with a small smile and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I am a rather solitary god. I have never taken much interest in looking for temporary affairs, so I have no children to call my own." He answered honestly. "Though some Greeks seem to believe I fathered Ouranos for some bizarre reason," he added as an afterthought.

The god of light fathering the god of the sky. Heh…just because they worked together hardly meant they were kin of that sort.

Panthera snorted so strongly even Isidore took notice. ' _Takes sex to have kids, doesn't it?_ ' he snickered.

Grimmjow gave a flat look as he flicked the 'horse' across the nose. "Must have gotten something into his nose, this troublesome one," he offered nonchalantly to his lover, much to Panthera's aggravation.

' _One word: Athena._ ' He growled mentally to his brother. The horse shook its mane and said nothing, though it was clear he was fuming.

Yeah, Sunnera actually was born from the head of her father. It was too weird not to share, even among the gods.

Isidore, always unaware of the internal arguments taking place, hushed the horse who showed his agitation. "Poor thing. You didn't have to flick his nose like that," he scolded lightly. He always had a softer spot for the innocent creatures, like animals and children.

Panthera remained smug for the rest of the journey into the town.

Isidore was just as amazed with the village as he was its youngest inhabitants. There were so many people who…really did look like him! They were craftsmen and traders, farmers and barterers, and above all, they were friendly.

Being blessed with their tongue, if only temporary, Isidore was happy to chat and ask about their culture. Grimmjow spun a tale of them being surveyors from the neighboring country and looking for potential trade allies.

Several merchants came forward with possible items of trade. Isidore briefly feared taking their gifts without having anything to offer back, but the immortal was prepared for that too, producing bottles of wine as a means of trade from Panthera's saddle. From the looks of excitement on the villagers' faces, wine was incredibly valuable here.

In the end, Grimmjow looked to him to make a choice, which flustered the farmer as he looked over their offerings once more. Some offered clothing, with intricate knots and patterns in the cloth. It looked delicate but practical. He approved of that. Many of them had gorgeous metalwork to offer, including jewelry and tools. In fact, it was the tools that caught his eye the most.

Isidore asked the man holding the strange weapon if he could examine it closer. The metalworker proudly handed over the sickle with the beautiful design carved into it. It was artfully crafted, and he ran his finger across the knot styled designs.

Grimmjow watched his awe with a smile. That was it then, he admired unique and personally made goods. This had been his motivation for letting Isidore choose the gifts to trade the wine for.

Overall, Isidore chose the sickle, some jewelry for his mother and one jewel colored blanket he planned to give to his sisters (they shared a bed) for four bottles of wine. Grimmjow assured him quietly the trade had been fair.

The villagers certainly seemed pleased, and begged the men to join them for a feast. Grimmjow heartily agreed for them, and as the men and women rushed about preparing their meal. The sun began to disappear into the ground, which reminded Isidore of his earlier question.

"Grimmjow," he whispered, as they lead Panthera to wait with other horses (Grimmjow growling at his brother not to do anything stupid in secret). "How is it the sun disappears once again when it had set in Crete?" he asked.

Grimmjow chuckled. Ah, so he noticed. "The world is not a flat plane, Isidore," he explained. "It is round, so light touches the world very differently everywhere. Why, in the truly far east, it will be almost morning by now." He pointed out to his wide-eyed lover.

Isidore held on to every word, always eager to learn. "Amazing. The world is far larger than I imagined." He admitted. He looked back to the village. "Clearly so. To think there would be so many people like me, yet they are hardly hindered by it at all." He muttered softly.

Grimmjow stroked the very hair he was pondering about. "Did I not tell you so? You were blessed with beautiful features, whether the Greeks agree or not, I know it to be true. I'm not the only one who thinks this it seems," he grinned, gesturing to some young female villagers who were tittering amongst themselves and looking at the redhaired man.

Isidore glanced in their direction and they blushed and giggled, some daring to smile directly at him. He was at a lost. "Are…you are sure they aren't looking at you?" he asked feebly. So much sudden attention was disconcerting.

The god shook his head and slapped the stunned farmer on the back, gently, with a laugh. "Give yourself some credit Isidore!" he chuckled as the youth stumbled anyways out of surprise. "You are quite easy on the eyes, especially in this country. Isn't that why I brought you here?" his eyes softened. "You are now someone very special to me. I won't have you doubting your self-worth because of your past. I am here now. I will always protect you from now on." He swore.

Isidore smiled, feeling warm all over. "You swear?" he asked sheepishly. It was a risk, asking so much from such a powerful being.

Grimmjow placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "I do." He vowed seriously. The two men gazed into each other's eyes, looking for any hint of doubt. Neither could find it, so they turned back to the villagers, who coaxed them into a large circular building which was enough to hold all of them.

Having eaten light at dinner, Isidore was willing to all of the food the Celtic people had to offer. He especially liked the salted meat [ **ham** ] despite not usually eating much meat outside of fish and chicken. He noted that the men and women here did not water down their wine, so despite feeling barbaric, he followed suit to avoid seeming rude.

He laughed and talked amongst the farmers and herders, trading methods of cultivating animals and fruits, though Grimmjow warned him they would not recognize olives. He simply changed the story to growing grapes, which were similar enough in theory.

During this time, the children from before approached him, and a young girl shyly handed him a braided flower bracelet and ran off. An older man guffawed at his surprised look.

"It seems the little lasses around here have a fondness for you. Those bracelets take several days to make you know." He slurred, already drunk from the wine and other alcohols shared during the feast.

Isidore, not wanting to offend anyone, thanked the man and carefully put it on, admiring the work put into it. The flowers were dried carefully, so it would not fade or shrivel up after a few days. No wonder it was considered a time-consuming piece, Isidore noted. However, given the coy looks he was receiving from the women not too far away, he fretted it might have been a mistake.

Grimmjow took this as a chance to laugh loudly. "Oi, you better not let your woman see that when you get home!" he warned jokingly. "Feisty temper that girl has." He added.

Isidore breathed a sigh of relief as the women looked disappointed in his apparently married status. "Her passion is what makes her lovely," he argued, trying and failing not to smile as he defended his fake wife.

The meal went on, talking and laughing and more. As the night fell upon them and the children were sent off to bed, Grimmjow pulled himself and the far more sociable Isidore away, insisting they had to be at a certain town by sunrise and thanked them for the hospitality.

Isidore was noticeably drunk by time Grimmjow coaxed him into climbing back onto Panthera's back. He was far more relaxed, and even a little giggly and hands on, much to Grimmjow's amusement. His lover was the touchy feeling sort of drunk, it would seem.

Isidore giggled to himself as he turned himself around on the horse to face Grimmjow. Panthera snorted as the young farmer stumbled slightly, before setting off at a slow trot. ' _If this is what normal wine does to him, imagine what some divine wine will do._ ' He snickered.

Grimmjow snorted as well, especially as the mortal shamelessly started to run his hands through the primordial god's hair and made his way down, tracing the shape of Grimmjow's bottom lip. The god sat silently with a smile as he allowed his lover to trace and explore the planes of his face, but took action when the mortal made to move through his clothing.

"Ah-ah," he shook his head, grabbing Isidore's hands before he got too far. "Isidore, there is a time and place for such a thing, but not here." He said calmly while the other man pouted. By the heavens wasn't that adorable.

' _Fuck that_!' Panthera snorted. ' _Nothing wrong with an extra bumpy ride on top of the horse!_ ' Grimmjow could hear the grin on his perverted twin's expression.'

' _One, that's vile,_ ' Grimmjow countered flatly. ' _Two, his first time should be somewhere far more meaningful and finally, there's no way in Tartarus I'm having sex on top of_ _ **you**_." He glowered in distain for his twin's raunchiness.

' _Damned prude_.' The darkness god grumbled once again. They both wondered how they ended up with such a mirror opposite double.

A soft sigh interrupted them as Isidore leaned into Grimmjow's chest. "This night was wonderful." He declared as he played with the bracelet still on his wrist. "I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me." He said to Grimmjow's collarbone.

The god smiled softly. "I was more than happy to do this for you. Do not feel as though you need to offer anything in return. All I desire is your company, nothing more." He stated sincerely.

That truly was all he wanted. The fact he found his soulmate was more than enough for him to be happy. He didn't need special sacrifices made to him, or gifts made by the farmer. Hell, if Isidore was not comfortable with the idea of having sex with a man, he'd be content with just **being** with him.

Isidore lifted his head to look at the god. "I miss your hair." He mumbled, still staring at blonde where there should be blue. "It suits you more." He insisted.

Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow and let the glamour fade away, returning to the rich honey skin, electric blue hair and eyes he was known for. "Is this better?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

Isidore swallowed thickly and nodded, caught in the god's ultramarine eyes. "Mmhmm." He managed, unable to look away. Unbeknownst to the young consort, his own tan coloring was reverted back as well. This entire time, Isidore had no idea Grimmjow had lightened his skin too.

"Well…I am pleased to know this appearance satisfies you." He teased, lifting the farmer's chin up ever so slightly and dipping his own down to capture his soulmate's lips in their first true kiss.

Isidore felt his whole body light up with warmth and a strange rush he could not describe. Clumsily he reached around to clutch at the deity's back. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, and let Grimmjow closer, deepening the kiss. The god's kiss was languid and sweet, yet still managed to bring a fire roaring through his veins. Perhaps this is what Prometheus felt when introduced to the very flames he swore he felt, Isidore managed to think before going blank from pleasure.

Grimmjow felt as light as the atmosphere he reined over. By the Fates, he's waiting so long to have this moment with his perfect half. Isidore tasted like the wine he'd gone drunk off, plus a slightly sweeter taste he was having trouble placing at the moment. Then again, he wasn't trying too hard to recall it, as he explored his mortal lover's mouth with care and utmost attention.

Their sweet moment lasted for mere seconds, but to both mortal and deity, it felt like hours when they finally broke away, Isidore left gasping for breath. Blinking away his daze, he realized the horse they rode had moved them quite far from the village. In fact, he could hardly see it any longer.

Grimmjow noticed as well and sighed. "It would be best to return you to Crete now," he whispered, though Isidore hear him perfectly clear. "I would not want to keep you from your tasks at hand tomorrow. You need your rest." He decided.

Still drunk, both on wine and his passionate moment with the man in front of him, Isidore pleaded for more time. Part of him was scared that none of this was even real, and he had merely dreamt it all.

Grimmjow hushed him with a gentle but firm look. The boy was drunk and simply enjoying himself, no need to scold him harshly, he thought with a smile. "Do not argue with me Isidore," he warned with a grin. "More nights such as this will follow, I assure you. For now, I want you to be well rested." He repeated quietly.

Isidore slumped forward. "Can I be selfish…and ask for just a little longer then?" he begged just as quietly, looking up with pleading hopeful eyes. Ah hell, Grimmjow thought with a tender expression. It was going to be so difficult not spoiling the young man and giving in to his every urge and whim.

Such was the arduous task of being the worldlier of the two and therefore responsible one in this relationship. With a small sigh, the god relented.

"Alright…five more minutes," he agreed, loving the way Isidore's eyes lit up with happiness. He eased the young farmer off Panthera's back (much to the darkness god's dismay) and guided him towards a cliff to view the waves crashing on the distance shoreline.

"So pretty…" he slurred, leaning into Grimmjow's shoulder as they simply stood there. Grimmjow had to agree. The moonlight did wonders for Isidore; his tan skin turned pale and appeared like marble, and his hair appeared to darken in color, but not so much you could mistake it for brown.

"…two more minutes Isidore." He warned, noting the young man was beginning to nod off. not surprising; he should have been asleep in Crete more than two hours ago, not to mention all the added activities, alcohol and heavy food he had here.

The farmer grumbled and tried to move closer to the deity's warmth, but was denied firmly. "Isidore…I gave you the additional time as you requested. It's time to go." He said with utmost conviction, his eyes even flashing a sharper blue.

Isidore looked down at his feet like a petulant child. "Very well," he agreed mournfully. Grimmjow shook his head at his silly consort and tutted softly.

"Ah-ah, shouldn't you bid farewell to Panthera first?" he teased, deciding to give his brother a break (because he was the better twin after all) and actually give him a chance to say goodnight.

Panthera's ears perked up and happily trotted over to his soulmate, who had giggled and agreed it would be rude to leave without bidding the horse farewell. Being forced to parade around as a horse would be all worth it when he could finally touch the pretty redhead the way he wanted to. For now, he would accept all the head strokes and hugs that came with this form.

Isidore smiled brightly as he stroked the horse's pure black neck. "You're such a smart creature Panthera. I hope to see you again soon." He stated, before leaning down to kiss the disguised god right on his nose.

Grimmjow had to swallow down the hysterical laughter threatening to escape; he could see Panthera's true body, and the look on his face was priceless. Wide eyed and mouth agape, the feared ancient god of darkness who struck fear in millions of dead souls…was blushing like a young maiden.

The horse appearance simply stiffened and then shook a little to provide some reaction. The god known as Erebus eventually recovered and retaliated with an eager lick up the young man's throat, which caused Isidore to giggle yet again and irritate the hell out of Grimmjow.

"Alright you two. You've had your fun," Grimmjow said dryly, eyes set at his brother in particular. "Pan, go home." He announced, daring his twin to challenge him.

The horse snorted and turned to leave, walking straight into the forest and melting into the shadows, leaving Isidore in awe.

"Wha-wha…he just…disappeared!" he cried, flabbergasted. Grimmjow chuckled as he pulled the stunned farmer back into his arms, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"He's a creature of darkness. We get along well, so I tend to use him for my more mortal travels should the need arise." He explained smoothly. Technically, it was even the truth. Panthera really would follow him when he would travel around the world in his human guises, just either as a fellow traveler or some other disguise. Being a horse had actually been Pan's idea in the first place.

Isidore itched to look back where the horse had disappeared, but was too drawn in by Grimmjow's gorgeous face and eyes. When he finally could pull himself away, he realized they had been transported out of Eire and back into Crete. More precisely, his bedroom.

Isidore started, and pulled away in slight embarrassment. Not so much for having a man in his room, oh no… he was ashamed at how lowly and poor his room was. Compared to a divine lord of the skies such as Grimmjow, his room must seem paltry and pathetic.

Grimmjow tutted, knowing exactly what he was worried about (the man wore his emotions on his sleeve, especially drunk). "A room is a room, it is meant to hold purpose. I care for you, not the state of your wealth or skill in your trade." He added, looking quite serious.

Isidore smiled meekly; he was so easily found out too. "Forgive me for all my constant doubts, Grimmjow…I am not used to such kindness being directed toward me." He admitted.

Grimmjow sat the farmer onto his bed and stroked down his jaw to his chin, Isidore's eyes unconsciously closing as a result. "You shall never feel unloved ever again Isidore Karousakis," he vowed, eyes flashing bright blue in his promise. "Rest, and enjoy time with your family and friends. I will send a sign when it is time for our next day of courtship." He promised.

Tired and overwhelmed with emotion, Isidore slurred out his farewell and fell asleep near immediately. Brushing some stray hairs out of the exhausted man's face, Grimmjow made to left with a smile on his face.

He arrived in his home to see Panthera was already there, lost in thought. "You're welcome." He said flatly, though it was done with a smirk.

The twins did live together, but they rarely slept at the same times. Their chambers were vastly different from one another, and it showed in their décor. For now, they were in the common space, where they agreed to decorate neutrally in the event of guests.

Panthera jolted in surprise. He hadn't expected Grimmjow to arrive so quickly. "Tch, he would have asked to say goodbye without your help," he countered, though it was hard to find it frightening or intimidating in the least when his face was still partially flushed.

Grimmjow swallowed his retort. It had been a good night overall, no need to end it by fighting. "He really is a wonderful soul." He offered instead with a smile.

A twin smile crept onto his darker twin's face. "Yeah, he's damn near perfect. Hopefully now he won't doubt his beauty and worth anymore." He said wistfully, falling back to land onto a nearby couch before looking back at his twin. "So, any plans for the next courtship date?" he asked, perfectly serious.

Grimmjow hummed as he took a seat himself. "Honestly no," he admitted. "This one had been purely out of whim after all. We'll come up with something by next week."

"Next week?" Panthera whined. He barely got to spend time with his soulmate as it was.

"Patience Pan. He'll be ours for eternity once the courtship is over." Grimmjow soothed before stretching. "I'm going to get some rest. Might be able to come up with something by then." He decided before a grin stretched across his face. "Want me to kiss your nose goodnight?" he teased.

Panthera flushed red once more. "Fuck you, you prick!" he snapped, as Grimmjow left laughing back to his rooms. The god of darkness grumbled at the ribbing before calming down in the privacy of the empty room.

He reached up then, and once again gently touched the spot on his nose where Isidore had kissed him.

Isidore woke the next morning feeling unbelievable refreshed before sitting upright immediately. Last night hadn't been a dream, had it? He looked down. He was back in the clothes he had fallen asleep in before awaking in Eire.

Isidore sighed in disappointment. It had been a dream after all. At least, had thought so until he turned to his small little table, smiling so brightly it almost hurt.

Lying underneath Grimmjow's pendant was the ornately carved sickle, the blanket for his sisters nicely folded and the braided flower bracelet given by the young girl.

 **AWTG: Woo! Another chapter done before the new year! Hope this was worth the wait! I'm still a little iffy about the next date, but please bear with me! Thank you to everyone who's followed me and this story. I'm already looking forward to the next one.**

 **How was the first date? Let me know if you liked the mini-history lessons. Thanks once again!**

 **~Ciao!**

 ***Rats and Rabbits is technically a modern version, but I do believe there really were games like this played in ancient Ireland. If someone is better versed in ancient Ireland, please feel free to correct me and share the real games the ancient kids used to play.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: Happy Valentine's Day! I'm so sorry this took so long; I sweated a lot on this chapter.**

 **I promise it won't take another year before the next chapter comes out. It was just…something about this chapter made it really hard to outline without jumping straight to the other parts without getting confusing. I don't know…writer's block can be a nightmare.**

 **I'm sorry if this comes out a little boring or slow compared to the other chapters. I really struggled with this one but I hope I added enough humor and personal touches to make it seem real (as real as one can get with a multi-godverse).**

 **Thankfully, I was able to come up with something by jotting random ideas I was rambling off out loud until something sounded good enough to work (I recommend this if you live alone with no one to judge you…like I do). So, sit back, grab some apple cider, tea or coffee and enjoy!**

 **Chapter Warnings: Isidore has a mini panic attack, serious relationship talks, coming out reveal, Grimmjow and friends … and 'not friends,' Panthera and Grimm sibling talk [there's a lot of heart to heart talking in this chapter] and a quick date.**

 **Chapter V**

Isidore's smile held as he picked up his new tool, only to fade as he realized he had no plausible explanation for it should his family discover his gift.

Despite his newfound gifts and devoted soulmate, Isidore was left conflicted still as he realized with a jolt he couldn't simply talk off the sudden extra good fortunes. Sure, they had left him with a spirit soaring so high knowing there really are people out there in this huge – apparently round – world just like him, but these gifts…

Nothing outside of a courtship would be able to explain them given how poor the family was. While that was in fact the case, explaining to his parents and sisters that a god was the one courting him was going to incredibly difficult. Receiving the cure due to devotion is one thing, but receiving _multiple_ gifts from a god?

No, they would never believe it. Gods were the ones who accepted gifts and sacrifices, not giving them to lowly mortals. Not unless they were truly that special. Now, Isidore had no doubt in his mind his family believed he was special, but…it was so hard to tell them. This wasn't like telling Claas. This was his family. It was going to be hard to accept their unmarried son was suddenly courted by a god. A male god.

Granted, a male consortship wasn't too bizarre, but it only really happened in high class families and among high ranking warriors. They were seen as worthy lovers after all. Plus, a god…a powerful, older than Zeus himself deity was the one to find interest in him. It just might be too much for his still very sick mother. He couldn't possibly reveal this…could he?

How would they react? What would this do for his family? What will others do should they find out? Could his sisters be put into danger as a result? His parents? Why didn't he think this completely through?

Isidore's eyes furrowed with increasing doubts and fears building up. Without realizing it, he clenched the pendant Grimmjow bestowed him tightly, the cold stone snapping him out of his self-induced panic. Just holding it in his hand quelled the anxiety he had been steadily building.

He lifted the pendant up closer. In his previous shock, he hadn't looked closely at it. The chain was a bright silver, gleaming in the early morning light. The precious metal wrapped delicately around an oval stone which matched Grimmjow's eyes and hair. The stone was flecked with much darker blue spots which swirled around in random patterns.

The silver came together in elegant designs, twisting into a swirl here and curving up there, all while ensuring the stone would not fall out. It was beautiful and he knew it would become his most prized possession despite having little appeal for expensive items.

Isidore forced himself to breathe in deeply and looked at the stone again, hoping it would continue to calm his nerves.

"Grimm…jow…" he mumbled softly, tracing a pattern on the pendant.

The stone glowed, much to his surprise, and with a bright flash, Grimmjow took before him once again, looking rather amused.

"So quick to test the pendant's power, aren't we?" he teased lightly, much to Isidore's mortification. He knew his little soulmate hadn't actually meant to summon him, but he wasn't going to ignore the chance presented to him. Besides, it could offer him an idea for his next courting step.

Isidore flailed about, his face heating up. "Ah-I…I had no idea…" he stammered, trying to look anywhere but at the amused smirk on the deity's face. "I'm sorry! Surely, I must have interrupted you. I'm so sorry!" he insisted.

Grimmjow laughed openly at his poor soulmate's expense. "Isidore relax!" he insisted, grabbing the embarrassed farmer by his shoulders. "I figured you hadn't actually meant to summon me, I came anyways because it qualified. I told you I would come when you called for me did I not?" he reminded kindly, his smirk softening to a tender smile.

Isidore looked down to the pendant still in his hand. "But I…I don't want to trouble you unnecessarily." He argued weakly, daring to look up. Grimmjow placed a finger under his chin and lifted it higher.

"I would rather you trouble me a thousand times before you hide anything worrying you even once, much less get yourself into a situation where you could get hurt." He insisted seriously, all traces of amusement gone. "Isidore…I promise I will protect you should the need rise for it. I will listen to you when you need guidance or are unsure of anything. Do not bottle up your fears and concerns around me." He added, his own concern growing.

"Now…as I am already here, would you like to talk? It can be about anything." The primordial deity insisted once again.

Isidore forced himself to relax, and looked over once again at the gifts by his bed. "I'm…unsure what to say to my family," he admitted, glancing back at Grimmjow. "I am certainly not ashamed of you…but…" he trailed off, unsure what to say next.

Ah, Grimmjow thought quietly. This was what was worrying him eh? He gently guided the young farmer onto the bed and sat next to him, a warm hand rubbing his back soothingly.

"Explaining a sudden change like this after so many years can be startling, I am sure," he agreed, nodding his head slightly. Isidore sighed in relief. Of course the wise, immortal god of light would understand his fears. "However, I cannot imagine the shock would last too long. I guarantee your family will be overjoyed Isidore."

Isidore's head tilted in confusion. "You truly think so?" he dared to ask before regretting it immediately. You fool! He thought harshly to himself. Why would you dare question the knowledge and authority of a god? He winced when Grimmjow removed his hand from his back. Damn…he went and insulted the powerful god, hadn't he?

"Why wouldn't they be? Every parent fears their children will grow up alone do they not?" The blue haired god asked back, crossing his arms over his chest thoughtfully, much to Isidore's surprise and much stronger relief. "You repeatedly doubted your own worth due to unfortunate prejudice, but imagine the relief your parents will feel knowing you not only escaped such a fate, but gained an invaluable suitor as your partner." He smirked.

"I know my occupation in Crete is not as highly revered as other gods like say…Athena, Apollo, Zeus or Dionysus, but a god is still a god. Others would jump off a cliff for a chance to gain a divine lover." He pointed out. "Heavens knows the news tends to spread quick with how quickly mortals love to gossip and brag."

Isidore flinched once more in alarm. "I would never flaunt such a thing like that!" he insisted, eyes wide with shock. "I could never take advantage of your powerful status like that for my own personal gain!" he added, shaking his head violently.

Grimmjow chuckled. "I know you wouldn't," he soothed, pulling the shocked mortal closer to him. "I adore your humbleness and kind spirit. You are the type to work hard for your rewards, never demand them easily. I simply brought up other comparisons as a reminder of your much more modest character.

"You are not greedy or spiteful. I could offer you unlimited possibilities no mortal can offer, such as revenge against those who wronged you…but I know you wouldn't, knowing very well I could." He added.

Isidore frowned. Yes…that was true; were he truly bitter enough, he could simply ask Grimmjow to avenge him, whether with his own power or through consulting other gods. But it didn't seem right. He relayed as much to the god next to him, who nodded.

"I am tied to you by the Fates, but even without this chance to call someone my other half, I could see how beautiful your soul is, Isidore." Grimmjow praised, running a hand through the red hair he adored so much. "Your parents will be proud, if not somewhat confused by the suddenness of it all. I'm sure your sisters will be excited for you as well." He added.

Isidore looked down at his lap. "I hope so," he muttered, clenching his hands into fists. "I'm mostly worried about how they will react to you being a man." He admitted.

Grimmjow couldn't help himself; he simply burst into laughter, moving away from the surprised mortal to catch his breath. "By the Fates that was precious!" he managed, placing a hand on his chest as he tried to regain his composure, still grinning ear to ear.

Isidore blinked; well he certainly wasn't expecting that reaction, though he was relieved the god wasn't offended at least.

Grimmjow wiped the tears out of his eyes as he finally calmed down. "Isidore, my sweet red-haired simpleton…you truly think that will bother them when you literally have an immortal consort with unlimited power?" he asked with amusement still etched into his tone and face.

Isidore scowled; he had thought it rather serious. After a moment of quiet pouting he sighed. Grimmjow was right. Being the consort of a god ranked higher than anyone bothering to care that it was a homosexual relationship. The gods choose whomever they desire, regardless of age, gender or color of skin. He was being irrational.

"I'm sorry…for being so foolish…" he admitted reluctantly. He was still hopelessly nervous nonetheless.

The deity's expression softened as he lifted the mortal's chin to look at him. "You are only a human…you cannot truly understand how trivial some matters can be when you are still following the rules of mortality," he comforted before pulling away with a grin.

"Although … technically I am not bound by flesh the way you mortals are. I could easily change into a woman should this form not be pleasing enough for you." He teased.

An eruption of red stronger than any expulsion by the volcanic Vesuvius blossomed across Isidore's face while Grimmjow desperately tried not to laugh at him.

Aether…Grimmjow…as a woman? The young farmer's mind blanked at the notion, trying and failing to imagine a feminine version of the man in front of him to no avail.

"Yo-yo-you…as a…fo-fo-form…wha…huh?!" he managed in alarm, causing Grimmjow to lose any grasp on his control and start laughing again. The human's face remained flushed as he waited for the god to stop. He swallowed thickly. "Forgive me. I know you were trying to be helpful…I simply can't imagine you in any other way, despite knowing all my life I was expected to marry a woman." He admitted, the color starting to ebb away.

Grimmjow stifled his laughter with slight difficulty; such an adorable simpleton he was bound to, though no fault of Isidore's own. Mannerisms had dictated how he was supposed to live, and he supposed he needed to be grateful the young man wasn't so rigidly bound by them.

Would he have given up his male form for him? Without so much as a moment of hesitation…but only if Isidore asked of him. He had pride in his masculinity, but as a deity, knew there were more important aspects of life. Such teachings would eventually come to the youth, once he became an immortal.

"Isidore I know your family will not be ashamed of you…and even if they are…the shame does not have to be permanent." Grimmjow said with a gentle smile. "I can call a few favors to Cronos if needed and the memories can be removed from their minds should it come to that, in the worst-case scenario. Either way, you will not lose the love of your family. I swear upon my power." He promised.

Isidore finally cracked a smile at the end of Grimmjow's speech. "Thank you Grimmjow…that truly meant a lot to me. Though I sorely hope it will not come to altering their minds." He added hastily.

The deity chuckled. "No…I don't think it will come to that." He agreed. "But it never hurts to have a contingency plan." Here, the god stood up and stretched. "For now, I believe you have some words to exchange with your loved ones. Do not hesitate to call me again, Isidore. I will always answer within moments."

The mortal laughed softly as well as the god faded away with that same grin on his face. He looked at the pendant with a gentle smile, and though he felt foolish, pressed the stone to his lips.

"Thank you, Grimmjow…I look forward to our next arrangement." He said, feeling a wave of warmth wash over him in response, knowing it was his soulmate's way of saying he heard and felt the same way.

It took a little more courage on his part to head into his mother's chambers at the back of the house, but after a few more minutes of deliberation, Isidore knocked on the door and was welcomed in.

Iason was already there to check on Mannara's health. Both were understandably surprised to see their eldest child standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Isidore? Why aren't you tending to the farm?" Iason asked with obvious concern. In addition to the olives, Isidore also tended to their small plot of land which grew most of their food like grain and vegetables.

Isidore cleared his throat and looked to his mother. "I was hoping to see if you were feeling any better, for starters." He began, berating himself for taking the easier conversation.

Mannara smiled. "I'm still rather tired, but I have been able to sleep restfully for the first time in months and much of my pain is gone. Thank you for asking dear." She laced her fingers into her husband's hand.

Isidore returned the smile brightly. "I'm relieved to hear it. Is there any more of the potion left?" he asked curiously, still reluctant.

Iason held up the vial in question. "I wasn't sure if she was supposed to consume it entirely, so I only gave her a quarter of the cure." He admitted. "Luckily, it seems to have worked well, so I will give her more tonight after dinner."

Isidore nodded. "That seems reasonable. It truly is a miracle cure." He mused out loud.

Mannara chuckled. "Due in part to our own little miracle of having you for a son." She praised, bringing a flush to the young farmer's face. "To think our precious Isidore would earn the respect of an ancient deity." She looked to her husband with pride, who was also beaming.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "You really came through for your family son. You should feel so proud." He added.

Isidore took a deep breath; this was it. It was a perfect opening and he couldn't ignore it. He closed the door behind him, confusing his parents.

"I…actually wanted to speak with you about that," he began, kneeling on the ground to speak at eye level. "Aether came before me yesterday as I was returning home to not only give me the cure, but offer a proposition." He managed, not looking at either of them.

Mannara's brow wrinkled in concern. "I should have known. No god is truly that generous without calling for favors in return." She fretted.

Isidore shook his head rapidly. "No! Nothing terrible, per se. I was caught off guard when he told me all I had to do was pray for seven days and nights. As it would turn out…the Fates seemed to have an entirely different path for me to take."

And so Isidore finally shared the truth with his parents, of the true meaning behind his new pendant, the proposal made by Aether, and even showed them the sickle to prove his travels to a strange world far in the west, where there were so many who looked just like him, but paler.

He left very few details out, save the kiss he shared with the immortal. He felt it might be too much for his parents to bear, let alone his own shyness regarding the memory.

Iason and Mannara were quiet the entire time he spoke. In fact, their faces were practically blank as he spoke. Not out of disgust or shock, but simply allowing their son to speak without interruption.

When he finished, they looked at one another, still silently taking in his words. Isidore felt a lump grow in his throat the longer with every passing second they remained hushed. This had been a terrible mistake, he thought with dread, as seconds agonizingly ticked by. He shouldn't have said anything…they were going to be repulsed by him…why did he…?

Iason's sudden laughter broke him out of his melancholic thoughts, and the youth could only stare in shock as his mother joined in.

"What a relief! We were worried you were going to say you were bound to be his slave or something horrid!" Iason managed through his chuckles before rising up and beaming at his son. "Isidore, we couldn't be prouder of you." He declared.

Isidore blinked in surprise. Now it was his turn to be left stunned into silence. "I…what…I…?" he stammered, completely lost.

Mannara pulled herself up with the assistance of her husband. "Isidore…you had nothing to fear. The courtship of a god is a high honor. Surely you did not believe we would cast you aside because a male god took you as a lover? It only shows how truly special you are." She stroked his brightly colored hair as though it corroborated her claims.

"How many people can say they earned the romantic interest of a god? There is an exclusive number of people who can claim that right, and you are one of them." She added. "Isidore…above everything else, I am so happy you found someone who will love and cherish you dearly. That was my utmost fear; that you would be alone once your father and I passed." Her eyes had softened in her sadness but remained bright with her happiness.

"That's any parent's fear," Iason chimed in, patting his son on the shoulder. "And truly, what greater honor is there than to be able to know our son was deemed so worthy by the gods? We will be able to rest far better at night knowing you will always be taken care of."

The pressure that had formed in Isidore's chest evaporated immediately, though the heaviness seemed to transfer to his eyes. "But…but…the family line will end with me. The Karousakis name will not be passed on." He argued lamely. Why he was protesting his own good fortune he could not say.

Mannara pursed her lips. "That might be true, but I would rather the name die out than you miss out on your own happiness." She declared. "Besides, your sisters will still pass on our family lineage one way or another."

She warmly clasped his hands into hers, a twinkle in her eye he hadn't seen since she first grew ill. "Isidore my child, you must learn to care more for yourself and your own happiness." She declared sternly were it not for her tender smile. "You have worked so hard for this family. You are entitled to love and happiness just as anyone else would be."

The young farmer chewed on his bottom lip nervously but swallowed the last of his anxiety, looking up to his parents in gratitude. "Mother…father…thank you," he managed sincerely with a bright smile.

Iason chuckle. "Isidore…we're your family. We could never love you less for anything short of murder." He snorted as he ruffled his son's hair. "Now that everything has been cleared up, go get ready. Those trees won't tend themselves you know." He teased.

Isidore laughed as well as he exited the house. The rising sun felt even brighter today, he noted with amusement. Idly, he wondered if Grimmjow was somehow responsible for that.

High above in the heavens, Grimmjow was in a less than sunny mood, pacing the inside of his den deep in thought. Damn…he was really stuck about his next courting prospect. Sure, he could take the young man to more countries, but which one? Would Isidore see him as lacking originality though? Gift giving wasn't an easy option either; he shied away from fancy things for himself. Even worse, it was practically a requirement to offer **something**. Whoever required this needs to be punched. Hard.

With a self-pitying groan, the god collapsed onto one of his couches and ran a hand through his hair. Fuck…this is why he had never gone out on many romantic romps in the first place; he sucked at them.

He wasn't a social god and he hadn't been attracted to literally anyone else before … if you didn't count his lecherous twin as part of his own personality of course. So, while he might have seemed smooth to Isidore, who also lacked a lot in the romantic department, his flirting skills were abysmal compared to other gods at best. Would it be sad to ask his own opposite half what he should do next?

Probably. The worst-case scenario, Panthera would mock him for the rest of his life about it, adding more fuel to the fire in their 'sibling' rivalry.

Thankfully, it was still very early in the morning for Greece, so all of Panthera's energy would be focused on his job right now, not prying into Grimmjow's mental moment of weakness. The god of light let out another groan as he realized how derailed his thoughts were becoming.

Someone knocking at his door was almost a welcomed reprieve from thinking, the deity grumbling to himself as he peeled himself off the couch. Unfortunately, that meant he had to go out and do another thing he didn't like.

Answering the fucking door.

Unlike some other gods, who would flaunt their fanciness and wealth, his home could not simply be entered without permission. A spell Panthera and him had worked on together to make sure no one came and went freely. They would have to alter it once Isidore is immortalized, he thought idly.

With a heavy sigh he waved his hand and unlocked the damned thing while making sure he looked presentable in case it was someone higher ranked than him. Wouldn't do for someone like the far more ancient god of the Sky or even the Fates to see him moping about.

Much to his disappointment, and some annoyance, it wasn't one of his superiors. They would have been easier to deal with.

Instead, bouncing around in excitement were younger and much nosier gods and goddesses. The four pushed their way in, a lavender pair of eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Is it true?" Amara, goddess of love, asked boldly, leaning in oh so closely. "Has our favorite grumpy Grimmy found his soulmate?" she pressed with an eager grin.

Grimmjow groaned loudly. "Who told you?" he groused, shoving her out of his personal space and walked back inside.

Xianla, otherwise known as Artemis, giggled as she made herself comfortable in Panthera's favorite chair. "Aw, come on…you didn't honestly think we wouldn't have noticed how much better your mood has been?" she teased, bright yellow eyes lit with curiosity.

Hermes, who long ago decided he liked his Greek name, leaned against the wall with a slight leer. "Sooooo? Come on, we all wanna hear what he's like?" he drawled.

Grimmjow gave him a disgusted look. "Fuck off Hermes," he snorted before raising an eyebrow at Xianla. "Panthera isn't going to be kind if he sees you in his chair." He warned.

The goddess of hunt paled and moved to a different spot. Grumpy as Grimmjow could be, few of the younger gods stuck around Panthera long in fear of his temper (excluding the even fewer who slept with him, and those were even warier).

Amara huffed loudly. "Oh, come on! Quit stalling! Tell us, tell us pllllleeeeeaaase?" she whined, trying to use her ample breasts to sway him.

The primordial god stared at her blankly. "That never worked before and it won't work now." He deadpanned, brushing her off yet again. The ruler of love was hardly swayed.

"Come on Grimmy! Yaya only gave me the gender and name! I'm the goddess of LOVE, I need to know!" she pressed.

' _So Yachiru blabbed huh? …shocker…_ ' he thought to himself unsurprised before letting out a sigh. "He's a Greece olive farmer and that's all I will say." He announced, figuring they would leave if they got what they wanted.

Hermes raised an eyebrow. "That's it? Come on, is he at least pretty?" he ventured before cowering when Grimmjow scowled at him again. They didn't get along very well, especially not after a prank the messenger had played on him that nearly blinded the older god. Would he have healed? Yeah, but that wasn't the point.

Pannera, a low-ranking goddess of brightness, finally spoke in lieu of a fight between the messenger and god of light. "We're sorry if we seem like we're pestering you, Grimmjow, but it's been ages since the last god found their soulmate and…well…we're all just very curious since you've always been somewhat of a loner." She explained bluntly.

Grimmjow relaxed a little; he wouldn't admit it to the others but Pannera was as close to a good friend as he's ever had, especially since they work together often. So, the god returned to his favorite chair and conjured an image of his beloved smiling and playing with Panthera still disguised as a horse.

The room was silent as they studied the image, which was broken by Hermes' snort of laughter.

"A redheaded Greek? That's new." The blonde teased only to recoil at the irritated look everyone gave him.

"Shut up Herms…no need to be a dick because you can't find your soulmate yet!" Xianla snapped, turning her nose up at his crestfallen expression before transitioning back to Isidore. "He looks so kind and happy." She added with a bright smile.

The blue haired god smiled back. "Yeah, he has a heart of gold too. Works from dawn to dusk to provide for his family, and hardly asks for anything for himself. It's a bit of a problem for me." He admitted.

Amara raised an eyebrow, dumbfounded. "What do you mean? You're not struggling to court him, are you? Just give him a ton of money and shiny things so he won't need to provide for his family anymore!" she suggested.

Grimmjow furrowed his brow. "It's…not that simple." He argued, trailing off. Fuck…was he about to admit he needed help?

Pannera rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "He's not very materialistic, is he?" she accurately guessed.

The older god sighed. "That's exactly it. Whenever I tried to buy him anything disguised as a mortal, or even now, he always hesitated or outright insisted it wasn't necessary. Most of the objects he uses are strictly practical. It's been making courting him harder than I expected." He conceded.

The goddess of love pursed her lips. "Well, that's not normally my style. Most mortals love to be showered in gifts and glory. Sounds like you'll have to get really close and personal with him." She declared.

Four pairs of eyes stared back at her in confusion. Amara sighed dramatically. "Honestly, I think I know what I'm talking about here guys," she drawled before rolling her eyes. "Humble creatures still crave love and attention, but don't want to seem greedy or using the other person for money-oriented gains. That sounds like the kind of person Isidore is.

"So, in order to court him properly, any gift you give him is going to have to come directly from the heart. Nothing overly flashy or expensive which could overwhelm him." She added, before suddenly pouting. "It's cuter than most common forms of love, but definitely a little more boring in the gift department." She whined, causing everyone to roll their eyes at the very materialistic hypocrite.

Xianla crossed her arms over her chest. "She makes a good point; what sort of things does your farmer like to do in his spare time? Surely he has some hobbies?" she pressed.

Grimmjow furrowed his brow. "Not really…he really does tend his land the whole day." He confessed, not feeling much better.

Hermes shrugged. "Well…new farming tools or even workers are practical and considerate right? Even if it is a super boring gift like Amara said." He added with a cheeky grin, much to Grimmjow's ire.

The ugly scowl remained long after the messenger shrank back. "Giving him regular gifts like that don't carry that much thought, practical as they might be." Pannera argued for his sake. "Courting still has to be personalized. Maybe you could extend your generosity toward his family somehow?" she suggested.

The elder god crossed his arms in thought. "That could work," he admitted reluctantly. "But I'd really prefer to give _him_ something. I just wish the fool wasn't so damned modest." He complained.

He had praised the boy's humble soul when he had been feeling down, but it was causing him so much difficulty in finding something that would appease his need to give the farmer gifts without overwhelming him or feeling greedy…or worse, guilty for accepting said gifts.

"Maybe…but this is your soulmate we're talking about. A poorly thought out gift can sour a romance in any stage, young or seasoned." Amara countered. "If you want to secure his heart, you will have to pay extra close attention to what he likes. You've been around him for what, a few days?" she asked.

The light god nodded, so she continued. "Well…think carefully about anything he might have shown interest in. Was it something he liked for himself, or maybe something he thought would be good for his family? Didn't you talk about interests at all?" she pressed.

Grimmjow thought back. Of course they had discussed various interests. Isidore clearly had intelligence despite his poor upbringing, and really seemed to love animals and travelling. That much had been clear when he was introduced to Panthera as a horse, or seeing a different country.

He sighed. "Well…he likes animals, but I doubt he'd accept or be happy to tend to multiple animals so I'm not sure I can utilize that one too much." He threw out. The others nodded; live gifts could be tricky.

"I'm especially fond of animals, but I doubt he'd appreciate a deer, bear, or hawk as a gift." Xianla chuckled as she mused out loud. "Still, what about a horse to use around the farm? Practical and something he likes right?" she guessed.

Pannera shook her head. "But horses are expensive to humans. He would likely feel pressured to accept such a gift with his modesty." She reminded gently, causing the goddess of the hunt to pout.

Hermes shrugged. "What if it was a common horse from another land then? He probably could care less if he gets a purebred or not. You fulfil the gift giving portion of the courtship, he's happy." He offered, the first serious recommendation he's made since coming here.

It wasn't a terrible idea, though Grimmjow knew he really would prefer to give his lover the best of the best. It would also look bad on him to give such meager courtship offerings, even if they were the ones Isidore preferred.

Xianla perked up. "Well…there's several thousands of breeds of horses…why not ask Hiawatha about a hardy but still well-bred horse? He'd get a breed no other Greek has, and you'd feel better?" she suggested.

Hiawatha was the true name of Poseidon. Contrary to what the Greeks thought, Zeus, Poseidon and Hades were not at all related. In fact, Hiawatha was inducted into his role and sired by a different ancient god…but for simplicity's sake (and his apathy regarding it), the god of the sea never bothered to correct them.

Grimmjow frowned. Sure, if Hiawatha wasn't so difficult to associate with. The short tempered (and just plain short) god was even more of a loner than he was. They rarely associated with one another as is.

"That's assuming he's bored enough to entertain the idea. I would have an easier time picking out a horse myself." He countered with a self-deprecating groan, shaking his head. "This is getting pointless. There's more I can do besides driving myself insane finding a right gift. I know he loves travel. Maybe I should just take him to a country he's never been to." He decided.

Xianla's eyes brightened. "Ooooh, that would be super romantic too if you go to the right place! Two gifts in one even!" she declared.

Pannera nodded. "And he could even choose a gift of his own in the place you visit. Very clever, Grimmjow." She praised.

The oldest god in the room smirked. Who knew … his easiest option would be the best one after all, with the addition of hopefully getting these nosy brats out of his house faster (excluding Pannera…she was the only one not getting on his nerves).

Amara hummed. "True…but now it's a matter of where to go." She mused, deflating his hopes of solitude.

He really couldn't help his groan of frustration at this point. You would think after so many years of spending very little time with others, they would get the message that he didn't want their help.

"Why the hell does my courtship choice have anything to do with you? And don't say because you're the goddess of love; that excuse gets old quick and only works for one of you!" he snapped, eyes darkening from sky to a chilling ocean blue.

Xianla and Pannera stepped back; they valued their safety over gossiping. Amara, however, was not put off in the slightest. That, or more likely she wasn't paying attention to how close she was to getting thrown out on her ass.

"Aw come on, Grimmy! We _all_ know you've never taken any lovers before. We just wanna help is all." She pouted with a curl to her lip, much to his irritation.

It was one thing to be celibate by choice, it was quite another to be mocked for it by one of those most unfaithful, self-absorbed and unbelievably vapid goddesses in the realm. His patience was running thinner than the wine Greeks loved to water down with this lot.

Hermes, for his part, seemed to recognize how close the primordial god was to losing it, and cleared his throat. "He's got a point Mar... that type of gift giving should be personal and definitely thought out with Isidore's taste in mind and not yours … despite your immense knowledge in the topic." He added somewhat hastily at her affronted look.

The goddess of love looked ready to protest before being nudged by Xianla, finally noticing the foul mood brewing in the older god and sighed dramatically. "Fiiiinnnnneeee," she whined as she stood up and brushed herself off. "Maybe I can come off a little pushy, but it's only because I meant well." She sniffed to everyone's exasperation.

The auburn beauty gave a dramatic sigh and flipped the hair she was so proud of. "Alright, I get it. I know when I'm not wanted." She pouted, pointedly ignoring Grimmjow's snort of derision. "Some people just cannot accept good help when it's offered to them." She declared, walking out of the house without another word.

Good, the god of light thought darkly. The less he heard her speak the better. Of all the popular gods, she was the most pretentious in his eyes. Hermes was quick to follow, uttering a brief farewell in an attempt to garner better standing with the ancient god. Good luck with that; he could hold a grudge, and Panthera still flew into a rage whenever he saw or heard about the little prankster; the 'joke' had almost cost him his eye too.

Now, all that was left was getting Xianla and Pannera to leave too. They hadn't been nearly as nosy or pushy, but he was already annoyed thanks to Amara, so his tolerance for houseguests was nonexistent.

The moon goddess bowed her head in respect. "Grimmjow, we apologize if we invested ourselves into your personal life. I merely wanted to congratulate you on finding your true soulmate." She expressed her regret sincerely.

The primordial god inwardly groaned. Trust the brightness goddess to be the most likely to make him feel guilty for his behavior. "I'm sure that was the case, and I appreciate the suggestions, but for now I'd really like to have a few moments to myself before Panthera gets back." He grumbled.

The girls nodded in understanding and left without another word, much to his relief. Grimmjow collapsed on one of his couches, sighing in relief that he was finally alone. Of course, he was still stuck without a clue about where or what he wanted to do next for Isidore.

He had to talk to Panthera about this. Crude as his twin was, they were technically both responsible for courting Isidore even though the boy was yet oblivious of his dual soulmates.

That alone was something to discuss. Yes, he wanted to spend time with Isidore and get the human comfortable around him before revealing he was actually two gods. But replaying everything that has transpired over the past few days, he knew deep down it wasn't right to shove Panthera to the side. He wasn't just his twin; he was literally a piece of Grimmjow himself. The act practically screamed that he was ashamed of his other half, even if it wasn't true.

On the one hand, he could continue courting as he was now, but it could lead to Isidore feeling a bit betrayed that something so significant about himself had been withheld from him. Yet on the other, the mortal could be overwhelmed by the mere thought of having two soulmates instead of one. Not to mention … well … Erebus wasn't a particularly adored god by the Greeks. Many feared him like they do Hades or Thanatos.

Urgh … had he known finding his soulmate would lead to so much inner strife he wouldn't have rushed in to meet his destined lover without thinking more about what to do first. The god shook his head, he was already struggling to find a courtship gift, he didn't have time to stress out about this too.

A ripple of dark energy pulled him from his thoughts, and the god looked up to see Panthera shrugging off his work clothes into more comfortable loungewear. The light side quirked an eyebrow at his twin's physical state.

"What's with the burns and scratches?" he asked, rising out of his seat. The god of darkness sighed with obvious exhaustion.

"Remember how I said I was going to go dry until Isidore fully became ours?" he countered, stretching his arms. At Grimmjow's frown and curt nod he continued. "Let's just say some of the nymphs of the underworld reacted poorly about it. Had to throw some into the eternal pit to avoid causing a scene.

Grimmjow grimaced. Ugh. That place was terrible. Panthera was one of only three gods who had access to the pit of eternal darkness, the other two being the god of death and Mr. "King of the Gods" himself. It was a terrible place filled with the worst of one's truest nightmares. Souls of the damned were often thrown in to reflect on their worst deeds. It was also a cruel holding cell for immortals and gods who were acting out of control.

Panthera writhed about as his healing powers caused his skin to itch, knitting itself back together. The burns would fade in a few hours. "So … what's causing _you_ grief? I could feel some of it on my way home." He grunted as he dropped into his favorite chair, sighing as the leather sank around him.

"Isidore." Was his brother's simple reply. The darkness god frowned, so the light elaborated. "I'm stuck where we should go next in the courting stage. Take him to more places without any gifts involved or get him a practical but still valuable gift? You know he's so damned modest he'd be reluctant to take anything too nice."

Panthera scratched his head. "Fuck, that's true." He grumbled before sighing loudly. "We would end up with a soulmate who's simultaneously difficult and easy to please." He groaned, lifting his head toward the ceiling. "Lay it on me; what ideas did you have so far?" he asked.

"Not too many. I was thinking about maybe getting him a horse since we know he loves animals." Grimmjow started, abruptly interrupted by Panthera's snort.

"True…or maybe he just enjoyed riding me." He chuckled darkly, causing the other twin to roll his eyes. "But in all seriousness, why are you struggling with this? A horse would be a great gift! It's practical and personal at the same time." He argued.

Grimmjow gave him a look. "Modest, remember? He might feel overwhelmed if we give him such an expensive gift." He reminded, watching his brother's face fall in disappointment.

"Ugh. Fucking modesty. Why is that a holy attribute again?" Panthera whined.

"You know why." Grimmjow uttered flatly. "Everything is still so new and confusing for him. Accepting such a large gift so soon into the courtship might be too much for him. I'm not going to lose him by appearing desperate or overly affectionate. At least not within the first month." He admitted after a moment's pause.

"…You're acting like a fucking pussy you know that?" The god of darkness blocked the bolt of white energy shot his way and rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying this just to be a dick; you're being overly cautious. Since when have you ever been so worried about what people thought? This is _Isidore_ … he's our soulmate. I sincerely doubt anything we do would actually scare him off."

Grimmjow frowned. "How would you know that? We've never had any serious love interests … and yes, I'm disregarding your disgusting flings. We've seen how some gods push and push until they've effectively scared off their own lovers. I don't want us to be like that. Isidore deserves better than that."

Panthera nodded, lacing his fingers together. "I still think we should get him a horse regardless. I don't think it's a terribly large gift to offer within a month of courtship to be honest. It's not like we're offering him a house made of gold and precious gems." He countered.

Grimmjow barked out a laugh. "Ha! I dread the look on his face were we ever to bring something like that up!" he teased. The brothers shared another laugh before falling back into silence. "Maybe an Arabian? They're a sturdy breed and not obscenely expensive in the human horse." He offered after several moments.

Panthera perked up. "Yeah! Let's get a black one!" he suggested excitedly despite Grimmjow's groan of annoyance. "Hey! Grouse all you want, you know I made a damn good-looking horse! He'd love it." The darkness god insisted.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Grimmjow relented. The twin gods set out immediately to hunt down the perfect stallion or mare. Panthera wanted a stallion, but Grimmjow was convinced Isidore would be more comfortable with a mare. It took nearly three days, but the dual gods were finally able to find one they both liked.

Then, it came down to how to offer the gift to their consort. Surprisingly, Panthera came up with an amazing courtship location for their next date. The downside for Grimmjow; he wanted to be there. He had been during the last date and he wanted to continue being a part of it. It was only fair, and the light god had no choice but to agree.

Having finally come up with a plan, the gods relaxed and waited for their date night to draw closer.

Isidore stretched as he entered his room, the sunlight just beginning to fade. The two weeks had been pretty quiet. Since the olives were already gathered and sold off, he had very little to do for his trees until the next harvest came. The money he had raised in Syracuse had been more than enough to pay for repairs or other necessities with leftover coin to spare.

The best news was his mother. Day after day, she regained her strength, the mysterious illness that plagued her growing weaker with every dose of the potion. Karin and Yalena no longer were stuck handling every chore, as Mannara insisted she wanted to regain her health by moving around and performing her typical tasks.

The days seemed brighter with her recovery, and his whole family was being very supportive of him, especially the girls. They were overjoyed he had found a soulmate, not caring in the slightest that he was being courted by a male. Yalena in particular was excited for other reasons; she pleaded to her brother to somehow introduce her to her patron goddess, Hestia.

Isidore had laughed and assured her he would try his best, but he didn't want to overstep his boundaries by demanding so much. Everything was still a bit surreal. He would wake up clutching the pendant he already treasured so much.

He dared not say Grimmjow's name out loud again though. He had been so embarrassed the first time he called him by accident. After so many days without contact though, he was beginning to miss the brightly colored god. Should he try reaching out to him again, he wondered as his hand already moved toward the necklace.

"How now Isidore … have you been missing me?" a familiar voice teased gently. The young farmer whipped around in surprise. Sure enough, there was Grimmjow, smiling softly as he leaned against the opening for his window.

The mortal smiled brightly. "Perchance I was, dare I ask the same of you?" he teased right back. The primordial god chuckled, reaching for the hand clutching his pendant and kissed the back of it.

"More than you'd ever know." He swore, still smiling as he intertwined their hands before tugging him closer. "I apologize for the drawn-out delay; I wanted to ensure everything would be perfect tonight." He offered mildly.

Isidore dared to run his free hand across the god's face, brushing aside a few stray hairs. "Apologies accepted. I appreciate all effort you have provided me so far. I truly do." He promised.

Both god and human found themselves trailing off, simply enjoying the serene peace and comfort of their company.

Grimmjow chuckled once more. "I seem to be getting myself distracted despite myself. Shall we?" he asked, still holding Isidore's hand. The youth nodded excitedly. "Alright; close your eyes and don't open them until I say so." He instructed.

Isidore did as he was told. A few moments passed and then there were sounds of birds and various aspects of the outdoors softly ringing in his ears while a breeze fluttered his clothes. Despite desperately wanting to see where they had gone, he obediently kept his eyes shut.

"Alright. Open them." Eagerly, Isidore did, and scanned the area with curiosity and excitement.

They were transported to a grassy plain, with mountains few and far in the backdrop. The sun was only slightly higher than when they reunited in his room, meaning they were not near the island of Eire. Behind him he heard an animal snort, and to his immense pleasure, it was Grimmjow's stallion, Panthera.

The farmer laughed as he gleefully rubbed Panthera's muzzle, causing the horse to whiny. "Hello again you!" he greeted happily as he struggled to reach the massive stallion's ears. The horse ducked down and nuzzled him back, just as eager to see him again.

'I told you he liked me,' came Panthera's smug voice through the brothers' telepathic link. Grimmjow refrained from rolling his eyes. This was for Isidore, he reminded himself calmly before capturing the mortal's attention once again.

"You have taken such a liking to him, I thought we could go out for another ride." He explained, patting the disguised god's long neck.

Isidore perked up, thrilled with the sweet gesture. "I would love to! Thank you so much!" he said warmly as he attempted to mount the horse. To his surprise and pain, the horse shook its head and backed away from him. "Huh? Did … did I do something wrong?" he asked, hurt by the rejection.

Grimmjow chuckled. "No, no. nothing like that. Panthera is going to be my stead." He explained, only adding more confusion. He gestured with his hand. "That, is your ride."

Isidore turned his head and froze. Calmly grazing was a sleek black horse with a beautiful white marking of a near perfect circle on its chest. The graceful animal looked up, shook its mane, and walked over to Isidore with no verbal instructions. The orangette was lost for words as he shakily pet the beast's neck.

"It's…beautiful." He managed finally, mesmerized. Sure, he adored Panthera's stockier and muscular build, but this one was svelte and graceful, and it captivated him.

"He's an Arabian purebred." Grimmjow helpfully explained with a smile as Isidore continued to gently greet the docile animal. "He's also yours." He added.

"What?" Isidore pulled away from the horse in shock. "He's … mine?" he repeated dumbly before shaking his head furiously. "Oh no! I-I-I couldn't! He's so beautiful and of high breed, he deserves a better owner than a humble olive farmer." He protested, yet couldn't help but turn back to the stallion with obvious longing.

Grimmjow snorted; he knew this would happen. Panthera grumbled under his breath at the amused look on his brother's face. The god feigned a disappointed look. "Don't you like him? I searched for many days to find you the perfect breed, and then a few more finding the right stallion and training him for you." He pouted slightly.

Okay, it might be a little underhanded to guilt the boy into accepting his gift, but anyone with eyes could see Isidore already loved the horse.

Isidore bit his lip, torn between guilt for not appreciating Grimmjow's gift and worry about how expensive it was. In the end though, his love for animals won out, and he gave in with a small sigh. "I'm sorry if I sounded ungrateful," he offered with a sheepish smile. "He's beautiful. What is his name?" he asked as he continued to pet the Arabian beauty.

Grimmjow smirked, satisfied that his lover accepted his gift without too much complaint in the end. "I have not named him. I figured that honor should go to you or your family. After all, he is yours." He added sincerely. Isidore's face felt a little warm. He was so touched by the god's consideration and kindness. Care to give him his first ride?" he asked.

The young farmer nodded enthusiastically, eager to ride a horse again. It had been so long since their first official courtship.

The deity helped the mortal onto his horse, and quickly mounted his own. Isidore was thrilled immediately with the speed and nimbleness of his horse. His horse … he never thought he would ever see the day such a miracle occurred to him, he thought fondly as he laughed and cheered during the spontaneous race between his stead and Panthera. (Despite wanting to make Isidore happy, Panthera refused to lose to an ordinary horse lest his pride be shattered.)

They rode for at least an hour before Grimmjow suggested it was time for a break. The two men laid in the grass while their rides (really just Isidore's stallion) recovered from their race. Isidore sighed in happiness.

"Thank you." Was his simple statement.

Grimmjow rolled over toward him and grinned. "Of course. I knew you would love the horse. Don't worry about training him either; I meant what I said earlier about having him trained." He explained.

The mortal shook his head. "I'm sorry. That wasn't what I meant … though I am sincerely grateful for the horse as well." He admitted, looking back up at the stars. "I meant … thank you for choosing me. Of all the people you could have found worthy … you decided upon me as worthy of becoming your soulmate. This means more to me than even I could possibly understand."

Grimmjow's expression softened, and he reached out to cup the orangette's face. "I confess I had no choice in determining my soulmate," he divulged, glancing up at the sky as well. "That responsibility belongs to the Fates themselves. They chose you for me, and I still struggle to find a way to thank them for granting me this generous gift.

"I have never felt peace and happiness like this before, and I know you must feel the same." He added though his brow started to furrow in disappointment. "Before a month ago, I had no idea who you were. I took it upon myself to learn as much about you as I could before I approached you." He confessed.

Isidore gulped in dread; he must have learned about his past then. The mortal struggled to keep a neutral face. "Oh?" he managed out quietly.

The deity nodded. "Yes. I am so sorry you had to suffer so many years in silence." He said in remorse, his hand warm on the young man's cheek. "Let it be known that you are entirely worthy of love, Isidore, and I am honored to be the one to share my heart with you." He declared.

The warmth of Grimmjow's hand seemed to be spreading across his face, Isidore decided fretfully as the god's statement sunk in. He couldn't reply. Not right away anyhow. So, he let his actions speak for him, nuzzling closer into the god's warmth.

This was beginning to be a pattern, Grimmjow thought with a bittersweet smile, as the young man moved even closer. Propping himself up, the two of them continued to sit in silence as the sun began to descend behind the faraway mountains.

The god perked up. "You know? I've always found the setting sun to be my favorite part of the day. Hundreds of years later, I finally figured out why." He smiled.

Isidore blinked, confused until he focused on the colors surrounding the sun. The sky was bathed in a fading red-yellow color … much like his own. The farmer laughed and tried to wiggle away. "Flatterer." He accused, a smirk on his lips.

Grimmjow snickered and tightened his hold. "It's the truth, I swear upon my powers." He vowed. He really was a fan of sunsets though. It was the perfect blend of light and darkness, where his two primary powers coincided. It was only made better knowing that all this time, he was enjoying the coloring of his future partner. The Fates really were a clever bunch, he thought with a quiet snort.

Panthera whinnied in the background, upset about being left out. ' _Oi, save some smooth talking for me you prick_!' he groused. The god of light elegantly flicked off his mirror twin, doing so in a way that left Isidore oblivious. ' _You dick_.' He grumbled.

Fortunately for him, and less so for Grimmjow, Isidore pushed himself up. "Oh! We should go riding a little more before it becomes too dark. I really want to get used to … my horse." He managed with a shy smile.

Sighing mentally at his loss of skin contact, Grimmjow agreed for his young soulmate's sake. And if he was squeezing Panthera's sides a little harder than he needed to, well … that was just an unfortunate coincidence.

The four of them arrived back in Kamarina after another half hour of riding. Isidore froze suddenly as they walked back toward the farm, a look of uncertainty.

"Hm? Is something the matter Isidore?" Grimmjow asked in concern, cutting off the slew of slanderous words coming from his irate twin.

The mortal fidgeted. "Somewhat," he admitted. "I truly love the horse. I do … but where is he going to stay?" he asked. Surely, he wasn't going to leave this beautiful beast out without lodgings. He could get stolen or wander off on his own.

Grimmjow grinned. "Ah, is that all? Not a problem, I had already planned ahead for that." He assured, coaxing the confused farmer to walk behind his house. The orangette's eyebrows shot to his hairline.

A sturdy, good sized stable had been set up behind his house during their trip. All the amenities needed to care for a horse – ten of them to be precise – were already meticulously organized and stored away. The stallion obediently walked into the first stable and began grazing on feed which had been already prepared for him.

The olive farmer was both touched and impressed. It would be humorous to explain to his family, he thought fondly as he watched Panthera helped himself to some water, but overall, he was truly touched.

Grimmjow and Panthera shared a telepathic grin. Ordering some nature nymphs to build and supply the stable while they had their date had been child's play for them. Adding more than one stall was clever too; because Herms the goat was also enjoying the amenities offered, Isidore discovered with delight.

The farmer threw his arms around Grimmjow, overjoyed with his gifts. The god chuckled and assured him it was all his pleasure, but now it was time to take his rest. Barely suppressing a yawn, the farmer agreed, bidding farewell to his new horse, Herms and Panthera.

The god of light returned him to his room, and stayed until the mortal fell asleep. Satisfied, the two gods returned to their home.

Panthera wasted no time punching his brother in the arm, muttering about bruises as he stormed off. Grimmjow could have cared less, falling asleep that night with a triumphant smile.

 **AN: Thank you so much for continuing to read my story! I'm working very hard to get other chapters out, I promise. It will not take an entire year to write the next one I swear. See you all next time.**

 ***I assume a lot of you might be confused about who the gods/Bleach characters assigned to them are. Some I bet are easier to recognize than others, but others probably need an answer key. These are the characters introduced so far, I'll update as the story progresses:**

 **Amara – Rangiku**

 **Hermes – Kisuke Urahara**

 **Xianla – Yoruichi**

 **Sunnera – Sui Feng**

 **Pannera – Ururu**

 **Hiawatha – Toshiro Hitsuguya**

 **Jinn – Isane**

 **Apollo – Uryuu (I originally thought about Byakuya but I think I'm going to use him somewhere else)**

 **Fun Fact: Panthera was disguised as a pure black Friesian.**

 **Ciao~!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: Welcome back to another chapter! I apologize for how boring and a little … repetitive last chapter was. I've been trying to keep to a strict 10,000 to 10,500-word count. This one was a lot easier (and faster to create) because I had it planned out far better than the last one. With that, let's get down to business!**

 **Chapter Warnings: Cute opening, bullying, Badass! Grimmjow, first real fight, insecurity, make up, star struck Isidore! and first sign of trouble.**

 **Chapter VI**

…

Isidore woke long before sunrise, eager to return to his latest gift. Rushing through his morning rituals, he raced behind the house. Lo and behold, the stable was there, with Herms and the stallion sleeping peacefully in their respective stalls.

He rested his chin on his arms, still in awe of the beautiful creature. He wondered what to name him, he idly wondered, before shaking his head. He couldn't make a decision this big by himself … this horse would belong to everyone.

The farmer allowed himself to linger in the stable for a little longer before turning to his chores for the day, which seemed to fly by after mere minutes when he reentered the house for his midday meal.

The girls looked up from their needlework or other chores. "Hi Isidore!" Yalena beamed, showing her work. "We got a generous price for straw in town, so I'm making you a new hat to protect against the sunlight!"

Isidore chuckled as he cleaned his hands. "Looks good Yaya." He praised warmly before looking at his mother, who was performing her own sewing. "How are you faring, Mother?"

Mannara smiled back. "I feel much better. Thank you Isidore. How goes the farming?" she asked, returning to her work.

The farmer stretched. "Some crops are showing signs of ripeness soon. We'll need baskets to collect the barley." He suggested.

Yalena nodded eagerly. "I have some twine I can use to make a few! I think there's extra behind the house." She wondered.

Isidore grinned. "Oh, that reminds me. There's something out back that's pretty important. Everyone needs to see it." He insisted. The girls looked at each other in surprise, wondering what could have their typically calm brother so chipper.

Calling for Iason and making sure Mannara was taken care of, the family of five headed outside. Isidore snickered slightly at the look of awe and excitement on each of his family members' faces.

"Is … is that what I think it is?" Iason stammered while Mannara clung to him in shock. Yalena and Karin were already screaming with excitement, well aware of what was stored inside.

Isidore nodded. "Gr…Aether came before me early this morning to present me with his latest gift. You couldn't believe my shock." He smiled fondly.

Karin hopped up and down, uncharacteristically, but given her excitement, it was understandable. "Well? Let us see!" she pleaded, while Yalena nodded vigorously next to her.

Isidore chuckled and ushered them inside. Iason and Mannara were caught off guard by how large and well supplied the stable was before even seeing the horse. The twins hardly noticed, rushing straight up to the Arabian beauty.

"Woooooooow! He's so pretty! I've never seen such a gorgeous coat before." Yalena gushed, running her hands through the horse's mane.

Isidore nodded. "Apparently he's an Arabian purebred," he explained as the girls continued to lavish the horse with attention. "He's also very well trained. I imagine there is so much that we can use him for, like plowing and travel." He suggested.

Iason nodded dumbly, still left in shock. Mannara, for her part, was able to regain her senses and clapped her hands together. "What a generous gift, even for a consortship! Oh Isidore, I'm so happy you found someone who cares this much for you." She gushed, a warm smile on her face as she braved petting him herself. "What is his name?" she asked, also enamored with the beast.

The farmer fidgeted, still slightly embarrassed about the talk he had with his family just the day before, until he registered her question. "Ah, that's actually why I wanted everyone in here. I haven't named him yet. I wanted it to be something we could all agree on." He admitted.

The Karousakis murmured and wondered among themselves for several minutes, the girls fighting over pretty or strong names especially. Mannara chuckled as the horse seemed to watch the girls with what could possibly be amusement.

"Hm … what about Anatoli? He comes from the East, yes?" she suggested kindly. The horse's ears perked up.

Iason laughed. "Well, it looks like he's chosen his own name! Anatoli it is." He decided, rubbing the newly named horse behind the ears. "Welcome to the family, Anatoli."

Anatoli appeared to like the name, shaking his mane with approval. The girls cooed and doted on him while the adults took a look around. Mannara rubbed Herms' head, not forgetting the elderly goat who seemed comfortable in his personal stall.

Iason looked at his son with pride evident in his gaze. "You truly are our miracle child, Isidore," he commended, much to his son's discomfort. "None of this would be possible without you, you know." He reasoned.

The farmer blushed, humbled by his father's praise. "I believe the gratitude belongs to Aether, father." He protested meekly. The older man laughed.

"True, but he would not have had reason to grant us these good fortunes had he not been drawn by you, my son," the elder man argued with a sly look in his eyes. The younger man coughed uncomfortably, taking his turn to pet Anatoli as a means of distraction.

"Hmm … having a horse will definitely make chores much easier." Karin said. "Imagine riding him into the village for supplies. Everyone will be so shocked!" she snickered with a glimmer in her eye.

Isidore knew all too well what she was referring to. While the twins were not subjected to the same derision he was, they were certainly mocked for their poor social status and lack of dowry appeal. In addition, it hurt them to see their eldest sibling be tortured for his unusual colors. He sighed, and shook his head.

"If we do bring Anatoli into town it might be best to say he's on loan from Claas," he reasoned, cutting her off before she could open her mouth in outrage. "Think of how troublesome it could become if all of Kamarina knew I was being courted by a god."

All were silent as they contemplated what he implied. Surely there would be those who would try to get into their good graces with false pleasantries and bribes, but there was the darker aspect no one wanted to consider as well. The girls were almost of marriageable age, so what would stop a repulsive man from kidnapping them and demanding riches produced by Aether for their return?

Mannara shook her head. "No … Isidore is right. We should not risk flaunting our sudden good fortunes so carelessly." She agreed before smiling once more. "This said, I agree that taking him to the market to get more supplies would be a good use for him. He will likely need the exercise." She reasoned.

Isidore pointedly did not comment on the extensive exercise the horse received only the night before, and echoed her statements. The family spent a little longer tending to both Anatoli and Herms before returning to their respective chores.

While the girls reluctantly returned to their weaving, Iason looked over the exotic horse once more. "You know, we really should take this fine thing out for a run. How about you go pick up some meat from the market today?" he suggested.

Isidore furrowed his brow. "Meat? Shouldn't we be trying to conserve our coins?" he fretted, worrying his lip. True, he had earned quite a bit at the market this year (Grimmjow's doing, he had no doubt), but it would be impractical to make frequent shopping trips just because.

Mannara smiled softly. "I know what you're thinking dear, and please don't worry. Now that I'm feeling better, there's no reason we cannot enjoy a few nicer things. Your father will return to healing others for a living which will help supplement our income for the remainder of the year while we wait for the olives to grow."

Her husband nodded. "Besides, we never got a proper chance to celebrate your most recent good fortunes son. This is something that needs to be done!" he insisted dramatically, much to Isidore's chagrin and Mannara's amusement.

Ah, he had almost forgotten how jovial his father could get while his mother had been sick, he thought fondly as his father continued making ridiculous poses to get his wife to laugh. It was nice, he realized quietly. With a self-pitying sigh, he agreed to the trip.

"I suppose I can go off to the market since most of my work for the afternoon is done," he said, albeit reluctantly. "But I won't stay longer than necessary. After all, we agreed not to draw too much attention to ourselves."

Mannara chuckled; her eldest was always worrying. "Everything will be fine Isidore. Have a little fun, okay?" she reached up and quickly kissed him on the cheek. "We will be looking forward to your return."

With the decisions made for him, Isidore collected some money in an older pouch to take with him and set off to the market. By foot, it would have taken him around 30 minutes, but by horse it would take just 15 … 10 or less if they rode briskly.

Isidore had no interest in racing to and from the market at the moment, so he simply enjoyed the ride with Anatoli as he passed the open plains and rivers. The Arabian beast was not in a hurry either, he noticed, and seemed just content to be out of his stall.

He rubbed the gorgeous mane as they continued their trek. "We will have to exercise you quite frequently, won't we?" he asked with a smile. The horse snorted as if in agreement, causing the farmer to laugh. "Incredible … it's like you truly understand me."

The horse shook its long mane in response, making Isidore laugh again. The two continued on their journey, with the farmer taking a few moments to appreciate the scenery around him. Normally he was in such a rush, he couldn't admire the beauty of his small town.

To think this town was formed nearly 200 years ago, he thought fondly as he recalled the history lessons he learned from his limited education before taking over the olive farm. First built and then destroyed fifty years into its creation, only to be rebuilt into the modern society that it is today. He had to wonder what other great things would come to Kamarina in the future.

Isidore hummed to himself, thinking about his recent good fortunes. To think he would meet a god … an all-powerful god like Grimmjow who thought he was beautiful. It was still overwhelming despite the fantastic month he's had. Perhaps his mother was right, things would be fine.

It did not take very long to arrive into town, and Isidore did his best to avoid drawing attention to himself. Given it was the peak of the afternoon, most farmers and other men would not be in town, tending to their own crops and animals, which was one of the only reasons Isidore did not protest as much as he could have.

The meat trader in town whistled in appreciation when Isidore tied his horse to the nearby stand. "Karousakis … when did your family end up with such a gorgeous horse? Last I heard, you were barely eeking by," he asked, a touch of envy in his voice as he looked at the elegant, sleek horse.

Isidore rubbed the back of his head. "He's … a loan from a good friend," he offered carefully. He recognized that look in the other man's eye; returning home could not come faster.

The man crossed his arms in disbelief. "A loan eh?" he asked dubiously. "A mighty generous gift to borrow such a highly prized horse. I've only seen one like it during my trades in the east and they do not come cheaply." The man noted.

The farmer tried to laugh it off. "I agree entirely. We were incredibly honored for this opportunity." He insisted as he tried to grab his purchase and leave.

The man frowned, and pulled away from Isidore. "Don't try to fool me boy," he warned, looking at Isidore with disgust. "Your family isn't exactly popular and we all know who spends the most time with you. That mixed herder isn't in supply of such rare horses. So where could you have possibly gotten it?" he demanded.

' _He thinks I stole him'_ Isidore realized in horror, as the merchant shouted for the other vendors nearby to investigate. To his dismay, several people began to crowd him and Anatoli.

Almost immediately, they began accusing him, calling him a liar and a thief, with many threatening to execute him and his sisters for the crime of stealing the horse. Anatoli became agitated, whining and bucking as people attempted to get too close to him.

Isidore yearned to calm down his horse, but the stressed animal could not hear his pleas amid all the anger and noise from the crowd. "Please stop! I'm telling the truth … the horse is a gift!" he insisted as the tensions grew stronger.

"Liar!" one man shouted.

"Thief!" another woman accused, pointing her finger indignantly.

"Filthy demon! You think you can fool us?! Who would ever bless you with such a valuable animal?" another yelled.

If the earth could swallow him in that moment Isidore would have felt grateful. Flashbacks of the pain and suffering he felt at the hands of so many before, some of whom were in this crowd even, came back to him and he tried to shield himself as the noise grew louder and more toxic in its content.

Everything came to a crescendo when one man grabbed him by the front of his tunic. Isidore had braced himself for the expected strike to the face while his horse shrieked in dismay when a blinding light silenced everyone, an ominous aura permeating the air.

The farmer dared to open his eyes to see what could have stunned the large crowd so suddenly when his blood ran cold.

There in all his divine glory was Grimmjow, looking as stunning and immortal as ever, though an ugly scowl was etched on his face. The god looked outright murderous. Even though he knew the glare could not possibly be directed at him, Isidore shuddered at its intensity.

Unable to help himself, he whispered the god's Greek name. "Lo…Lord Aether…" he managed, his voice quivering with fear. What of, he could not place.

Upon realizing the man before them was a god, an ancient one no less, the crowd threw themselves to the ground to praise his presence. The ancient deity snarled in disgust, halting them in their tracks.

"You … miserable excuses of flesh," he growled, his eyes growing darker as his brow furrowed. "How **dare** you … **all of you** for harassing and attempting to harm my beloved Isidore!" he snapped, the temperature in the air dropping several degrees. He held out his hand toward the stunned farmer.

Isidore felt himself being pulled by an invisible force and within an instant found himself at the god's side, an arm wrapped around him protectively. With a snap of his finger, Grimmjow freed Anatoli from his post, allowing the spooked animal to rush away from the villagers and cower behind the enraged god.

The crowd was left dumbstruck, before one man braved a response. "Forgive us, great lord of the sky … we meant no disrespect to you …" The man insisted before the intense glare was directed to him.

Cold dark blue eyes narrowed in disgust. "Oh? I see differently. This man is my consort and any threat to him is a direct threat to me!" he declared loudly. The crowd, stunned, could only stare with wide eyes and whisper their shock to one another. "The horse was a gift from myself. How **dare** you accuse him of theft?" he roared, forcing them to cower once again.

Isidore, for his part, so stunned, terrified and humiliated at the situation unraveling before him, could only cling to Grimmjow in shock, unable to voice his unhappiness. The god's eyes softened as he looked down at his lover, visibly concerned for him. The farmer looked up, his pleas to end this were screamed from his eyes, still unable to speak.

Grimmjow closed his eyes and allowed himself to breathe slowly, quelling his rage until the tension in the atmosphere lessened to a palpable degree. "Apologize. Now." He demanded; another fierce expression directed toward the villagers.

Low and frantic cries for forgiveness rang through the crowd, begging for Isidore to not force any suffering upon them.

Isidore swallowed thickly before turning his head, nodding his acceptance. His mouth felt dry like it was full of straw, and his entire body was shaking from the terrible experience.

Suddenly, the meat merchant meekly stepped forward. "You … you came with the intentions of buying food," he managed, cowering under the intense gaze of the ancient god. He dropped to his knees, holding a large cloth-bound package in his trembling hands. "Please! Take this prized cut of cow as atonement for my disrespect. I insist!" he pleaded.

Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow at the offering. Ridiculous … he could provide his soulmate with far more enriching and delicious meat, so tender and rich it would melt in his mouth, leagues above anything than this contemptible mortal could offer. Before he could voice this, Isidore stepped away to hesitantly accept the package, finding his voice in time to thank him and accept his apology, though he was unable to look the man in the eye.

"This is enough. I would like to return home now," Isidore pleaded quietly. Most of Grimmjow's lingering anger vanished; he had almost ignored how Isidore must be feeling about this situation. Wordlessly, the god clasped a hand on his shoulder and willed the three of them away from the village.

The two men stood silently at the edge of Isidore's family farm, while Anatoli happily grazed on grass, relaxed now that he was out of the stressful environment. Isidore, on the other hand, clutched the meat close to his chest, visibly shaken by what happened.

Grimmjow frowned and placed a gentle hand on his mate's shoulder. "Are you alright? They did not harm you?" he asked, looking Isidore over for any marks. Had he found any, there would be a quick trip to Ulquimorrta's home for a … favor.

Isidore shook his head quickly, his face beginning to feel hot. Did Grimmjow even know what he had done? What of the danger he might have potentially put his family through? If the god thought he was putting an end to his torment it was only going to get worse! With these burning thoughts he pushed the god off of him, eyes wet with anger.

"What did you think you were doing, announcing me as your consort like that!" he shouted, his voice thick with emotion. Grimmjow took a step back, stunned at his reaction. "Do you know what you have done?!" he repeated, curling his hands into fists.

Grimmjow glared right back. "I was protecting you, of course!" he retorted, crossing his own arms over his chest. "Those village fools were about to harm you. Was I to just stand by and left them hurt you?"

"I've always been able to handle myself before you came into my life. You just put my entire family at risk by boldly declaring what I am to you!" Isidore shot back.

"Have you gone mad," Grimmjow shot back. "They were accusing you of stealing a horse, Isidore. STEALING A HORSE! Have you forgotten what this country does to horse thieves? What hundreds of other countries do for even pettier theft? I saved your life!

"Don't you step away from me! Things would have been different had I known you existed before; such strife wouldn't have existed in the first place! So what if I announced who you were to me? I'd shout it from the heavens, which I control thank you, if it meant protecting you from harm again!" he insisted, grabbing the mortal man's arm.

Isidore squirmed. "That is not the point! All I would have needed to authenticate my story would be testimony from my father that the horse was a gift! This is a country ruled by law, not baseless accusations! But you let the entire village of Kamarina know I have the favor of a GOD! Have you no idea what some people will do to try and earn your favor as well?" he shouted.

Grimmjow scoffed. "Please. Like I'd accept any of those pathetic bastards, especially after the horrid treatment they've put you and your family through." He snorted in amusement.

Isidore griped his vividly colored hair in exasperation. "That is not the point here! UGH, this isn't working! You clearly don't see the problem for what it is!" he ground out before shaking his head in disappointment, eyes dimming. "Forget it. How could a being so powerful as you ever understand the struggles us lowly men go through."

Grimmjow blinked in shock. "Hey … where do you think you're going? We're not done here!" he demanded, about to grab the mortal's tunic as he tried to lead his horse back to his stable. The god was left stunned when Isidore smacked his hand away. He watched in silence as the farmer took his horse away and snarled to himself as he left the mortal plane. Fine … if the boy wanted to sulk so let it be.

…

While Isidore tried to swallow his worries and sadness in the mortal world below, Grimmjow entered the heavens in a fury, storming past nervous younger gods and goddesses as he made his way to his favorite site. He doubted he would be able to actually bring himself to sleep, given how infuriated he was, but at the very least, he could blow off some steam under the waterfall.

Flinging his clothes off, the god of light and atmosphere dove into the glistening water, trying to wash away his anger and guilt. However, the guilty feelings only reignited his anger.

Why should he be the one who is at fault? Was it not Isidore's traitorous village, the very one which tormented him as a child and just as unfairly now? He had done the boy a favor and this is how he repays him, by turning his back on him! Grimmjow emerged from the water and frowned when he realized he had an unwanted guest.

"I am not in the mood to deal with anyone, not even you … Pannera." He warned, turning his back to her.

The quiet goddess took no offense to his reaction, instead calmly sitting on a nearby flat rock ideal for sunning oneself. "You returned to the heavens so angrily, Grimmjow, I was merely concerned as to whether Panthera and yourself had an ill-fated meeting with your beloved." She insisted.

Grimmjow eyed her cautiously. Pannera was not one to gossip, and truthfully, if he told her to leave, she would agree without hesitation. She was one of the few gods who knew his limits and respected them. For this reason alone, he groaned and pulled himself closer to the rock and slumped his head against it.

"No one ever told me having a soul mate would end up being so damned frustrating," he vented, a crease forming between his brows. He looked up at her, feeling somewhat fatigued. "I don't know what I did wrong Ner … but he's very upset with me. And it's not because of Panthera. He's working at the moment."

The black-haired goddess patted the stone next to her. She was a patient woman, and if her friend needed her help, then she had all the time in the universe to listen to his concerns.

Pulling himself out without concerns about being seen unclothed (some gods preferred nudity), Grimmjow groaned and buried his hands in his hair. "I had done my research on him and discovered he was constantly harassed by the other villagers just because of his unique hair for his region." He began.

Pannera's eyes dimmed in sadness; she could imagine how often the poor child had been mocked and how much worse those fights would become once he grew older. She nodded, not saying a word.

Glancing at his own reflection, Grimmjow continued. "I ended up getting him that horse we had all discussed before, and he loves it. He truly, truly loves the creature and I do not regret giving him one but … apparently it caused him some trouble when he went to the village for some tasks or so." He scowled. "They were accusing him of horse theft for fuck's sake. You know what the mortals like to do when a horse is stolen." He muttered.

Sunnera nodded again. "He was in danger then," she guessed.

Grimmjow sighed loudly. "And how. When I arrived to his aid, he was already resigned to being attacked by a mob of twenty people or so. He wasn't even going to fight! Didn't he know how upset I would have been had he gotten hurt? I showed up right before it could get ugly, and I forced the cowards to apologize to him, but when I returned him to his home, he was extremely upset."

Pannera tilted her head in confusion. "Because you saved him?" she asked dubiously.

The elder god shook his head. "Apparently it was **how** I saved him that unsettled him. I warned them not to harm my consort, and that alone seemed to be enough to upset him, yelling about how it was going to affect his family." He muttered.

Realization dawned on the younger goddess and she sighed. "I think I see the problem. You declaring him as your lover might as well have left a target on his back, at least in his own mind." She explained.

Grimmjow shot up in alarm. "What? Impossible! If anything, this should keep those horrid neighbors of his far, far away from him and his family!" he protested.

The youthful woman shook her head, commiserating with the oblivious bluenette's young lover. "You are only seeing it from your point of view. You saved him, and therefore he should have been showering you with praise and gratitude, correct?" she asked.

Grimmjow frowned. Well, he wasn't exactly looking for brownie points with the farmer; he thought he had been doing very well to keep him happy and safe. The god pointed this out to her and she shook her head again.

"No Grimmjow you are missing the point. Isidore is a man who grew up putting his family's interests in front of his own," she reminded him. "Imagine the troubles his family could be put through now that his entire village knows there is someone there who has a direct link to the gods, who could possibly end starvation, poverty and other aspects humans want and desire? What threats could this pose to his family, who he would want to protect, especially after his mother came so close to death?"

Grimmjow was stunned. When Isidore had asked him about what he thought about the villagers trying to earn his favor, he mistakenly thought the farmer meant they would try to woo him and be accepted as another potential consort. No wonder he had become so upset.

He mashed his hand to his forehead. "I'm a fucking idiot." He muttered mostly to himself.

Pannera gave him a dry smile. "True this may be, but at least you are already planning to make amends for your moronic decisions." She teased gently. Grimmjow gave her a flat look and she giggled. "I only jest. This could be a good way to prove you care and understand … just admit you were in the wrong. That will go a long way in restoring his faith in your relationship. After all, it has only been a few weeks. That is mere seconds to us immortals, but unhappiness can feel as though it lasts for ages for a human." She advised.

"You're right," he admitted, drawing himself up and pulling his clothes back on. "I think I know how to fix this. I've gotten to know him very well so I think I have the best way to fix this mess I have put myself into. Thank you Pannera. I appreciate your help." He added sincerely.

She smiled, demonstrating her brightness abilities through her gentle expression. "Of course. I expect the same sort of assistance when the time comes for me to find my own soulmate." She warned with a wink. Grimmjow snorted and hurried off to find the gods and goddesses he needed for this to work.

He would make it up to Isidore as soon as possible whilst making it as personal and touching as the mortal could stand, he vowed to himself with a grin.

….

Isidore excused himself quietly while his family decided on what to do with the large cut of beef. He was thankful they didn't bother to ask how he was able to buy such a large portion with the little coin he had. He found himself just staring off into the distance, feeling somewhat guilty with himself.

Grimmjow hadn't meant any true harm of course, he thought sadly as he reflected on what happened. The god was only trying to protect him, but in his humiliation of having to be rescued and the potential threat to his family, he had lashed out at the god instead. Some consort he turned out to be … he couldn't even thank him properly without starting a fight.

Grimmjow had even **promised** to protect him when they were in Eire, even swearing on his divine power, and he had gone through with his word, Isidore thought sadly to himself as he bit his lip. Dammit, should he call for him and apologize? Obviously, he should; he was the human in the relationship … the god would never be truly to blame.

A lump formed in his throat as he looked down at his pendant. Would the god even answer so soon after being accused and … by Hera he had even struck his hand away! He winced at the memory. The courtship might as well be over, he trembled to himself. He had the love of a god and he had squandered it within a month of accepting his proposal. He really was unlovable, he thought, pressing his back against one of his beloved olive trees.

' _Grimmjow … I'm so sorry,_ ' He thought to himself sadly as he closed his eyes. A sudden breeze drifted in the air and he heard someone's throat clear as though to grab his attention. The farmer was startled to see Grimmjow with a calm expression on his face.

Isidore swallowed heavily and bowed his head. "I'm sorry!" he blurted out before the god could utter a word. "I realize now you were merely trying to protect me and I overreacted! I'm truly, truly sorry!" he insisted.

A warm hand pulled him into the god's broad chest and then threaded itself into his hair as the god hushed him. "We were both at fault in this one. I should have considered the dangers to your family and acted more tactfully. Please don't burden yourself with guilt over me." He said softly.

Isidore initially stiffened at the contact but relaxed at Grimmjow's words, carefully bringing up his arms to embrace the god. The two hugged in silence before Grimmjow took the initiative to pull away.

"I feel as though I need to make amends. Through my actions, your sisters could end up being harassed by unwanted suitors and your parents equally so by neighbors jealous of your good fortune. So here, place these around your house." He said, pressing several scrolls into Isidore's hands.

The mortal blinked in confusion. He could not read very well, and was unable to tell what the scripture was saying. The god smiled softly at his puzzlement. "These are protection wards. Anyone with unsavory intentions will be barred from entering your home. I had these wards blessed by Hestia herself as a favor." He explained.

Hestia, or Merci as she preferred to be called, was more than happy to help Grimmjow protect his young soulmate, giggling that one of her most loyal followers lived in the house and therefore she could not refuse such an offer.

This was a peace offering in two ways; it would provide protection for his family and even second as a gift for his youngest sister Yalena, who admired Hestia as her patron goddess.

Isidore could see this as well, and he smiled brightly. "Thank you," he whispered, his eyes softening in understanding and relief. He had not made a terrible mistake and ruined his chances at happiness after all it would seem. He knew he should immediately go home and set up the protection wards, but he was unable to leave just yet.

Grimmjow could sense this and chuckled. "It's fine Isidore. I'm sure your youngest sister will burst with excitement over the news and you cannot miss out on that." He teased.

The elder brother had no doubt Yalena would be absolutely ecstatic about the scrolls, having an actual piece of her beloved Hestia in their humble possession. Still, he was hesitant.

"I … had warned mother there could be a risk by bringing Anatoli into town. I don't want to worry them by explaining why the scrolls were necessary." He admitted.

Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow. Anatoli huh? It was a good name for the horse. But there were more important things to focus on. "That should not be a problem. Simply tell them this is another courtship gift to provide protection for you and your house. They do not need to know if you feel it is not necessary." He suggested instead.

They had agreed that Grimmjow would come to court him at least twice a week, both men rationalized. It wasn't a stretch to say these were just delayed gifts since he had taken longer than originally planned to find the horse he wanted to gift to Isidore.

The farmer grinned. "I'm so glad that of the two of us, you are able to keep such a level head. I could never be so calm when coming up with solutions." He joked.

Grimmjow snickered. "Years and years of experience my dear Isidore. Within two short months, you too could be able to experience whatever your heart desires over a thousand mortal lifetimes. I cannot promise anything, but I can offer expanded lifetimes for your family as well if they choose to accept." He added.

Isidore hadn't even considered that by accepting Grimmjow's offer for a consortship that immortality was even a possibility, so it was touching to know Grimmjow was already thinking of his family and how torn he would be to leave them to age and die whilst he remained young and healthy.

Nodded in understanding, Isidore thanked him and prepared to leave before Grimmjow cleared his throat again. "One more thing … there's two people I would like for you to meet tonight, if you are interested?" he asked.

Isidore wondered who these people could be. Where they red-yellow haired people like last time or … could he dare to assume Grimmjow wanted him to meet other gods? He swallowed thickly in anticipation. "I … would be honored to meet whomever it is you consider worthy." He replied.

The deity grinned so brightly Isidore's heart fluttered in his chest at seeing something so beautiful. "Then it is settled. Make sure you bathe yourself thoroughly and wear your nicest clothing if you wouldn't mind. I will return for you tonight."

With that, Grimmjow faded away. Isidore sighed in relief; the past has been forgiven and the two of them could move on. It was more than he could ask for, really, as he had been the one to speak out of turn when all the god wanted to do was help. Ah, but even the gods were not completely infallible, if he were to believe everything he has heard of the gods, especially some of the male gods.

Still … he had to wonder who Grimmjow wanted him to meet. While he talked under the guise of Mikolas, he had said he was not very close to many people, therefore he had many friends and no friends at the same time. The farmer had no doubt that part was true for the immortal as it had been for the 'man.'

Whomever it was, they must be very important to him to arrange a meeting with. It couldn't be another lover; Grimmjow had already sworn he had been waiting for his one true soul mate for thousands of years.

The redheaded farmer groaned in frustration, already nervous about whoever it was he would be meeting tonight. Still, there was enough time in the day and he had some remaining chores to do, so the mortal disregarded his worries for the time being, turning back to the house with a grin, knowing his youngest sister was about to be utterly delighted with his upcoming news.

…..

Yalena had nearly burst his ears with her squealing, but it was worth it to see her so happy, Isidore chuckled to himself as he emptied his bath water out the window. Not to mention his parents had seemed very pleased with the gift, especially with the scrolls being blessed by Hestia herself.

Their humble home did not have much to steal, but now that people knew about Isidore's sudden good fortune, it could not have been a timelier present. Isidore eyed the strange tunic Grimmjow had left behind for him from their time in Eire (it had been under the jeweled blanket for his sisters). Perhaps that would be the best thing to wear? He wasn't sure who he was meeting. Were they Greek? Foreigners like the men and women from Eire? There were too many questions bubbling in his head to process.

Shaking his head violently, Isidore took a deep breath. He would have to trust Grimmjow to not put him in a situation where he would be left humiliated or uncomfortable at the very least. Still … he wasn't the best at talking to strangers given his past.

When it had been Mikolas it was different; Grimmjow had done a majority of the talking and they had bonded over their mutual distaste for Isidore's old tormentor, Varvara. These were likely good acquaintances of Grimmjow's and he did not want to insult either his soul mate or them by speaking or acting out of turn.

Thinking it over, Isidore decided to don the green tunic and slipped a belt over it to keep it in place. Running a hand through his formerly despised hair, he realized the color might suit him well, given how it had for many of the children of Eire. Swallowing his nerves, Isidore left his room where his family was preparing for dinner.

Karin squinted at his clothing. "Huh? When did you ever own a garment as strange as that?" she asked bluntly, causing everyone else to stop what they were doing.

Mannara hummed appreciatively. "Another gift eh? The color suits you." She praised with a smile before turning to her daughters. "Girls, take a note from your brother on what to do to please your own suitors in the future." She instructed.

The red-haired farmer laughed awkwardly. "Thank you, Mother. I hope it is acceptable for wherever I am going," he said truthfully.

The matron of the home smiled brighter. "Of course, dear. Lord Aether himself would not have gifted it to you had he not thought it would be a pleasing gift. Besides, it might please him more to see you wearing one of his courtship gifts." She reminded gently.

Isidore hummed; he hadn't thought of that when he chose it. He was about to thank her when his amulet began to glow on its own. The women in the house oohed and ahhed at the pretty sight.

He chuckled, clutching it until it stopped. "I supposed that is meant to tell me it is time to go," he offered lamely, feeling a bit awkward.

Yalena clapped. "Yay! Have fun big brother!" she cheered, waving farewell to him. Karin nodded her approval while their mother also shared her well wishes. Iason, unfortunately, was not around as he was answering a medical call.

Waving goodbye, Isidore left the house, which was now proudly displaying the scrolls protecting him and his family from any wicked hearted from entering their home.

The farmer's eyes lit up at the familiar vivid colored god who grinned as soon as he saw him.

"Interesting choice of clothing," the god purred, eyeing the mortal up and down. Green really was Isidore's best color to pair him with, especially with that dark orange-red hair of his.

The younger man squirmed under his appraising eyes. "You asked me to dress nicely did you not?" he mumbled, smoothing out the tunic. "This was the nicest thing I owned."

Grimmjow chuckled, catching one of Isidore's hands and pressing a kiss to it. "Flattery shall get you whatever your heart desires, Isidore," he warned with a toothy smile, causing the farmer to feel warm. "Now then, we should get going so we are not late. I just know you are going to like who you meet." He promised.

Placing a hand over Isidore's eyes, Grimmjow transported them to a neutral realm where mortals were allowed to mingle freely with the gods, as per the rules of the Fate sisters. It was a much lovelier and cleaner version of Earth with some of the luxuries the gods and spirits enjoyed.

The trees were tall and bursting with lively flowers and fruits, the grass was moss like; making it luxuriously soft. Fragrant flowers also bloomed at their feet. It was, for all purposes, a slice of the heavens itself.

Isidore allowed himself to admire the large expanse of crystal-clear waters with the beautiful creatures swimming under the surface before looking around in mild disappointment. "Eh? Is Panthera not here?" he asked sadly.

Grimmjow inwardly winced; he hadn't realized just how close Isidore already was with his twin. Then again, as they were the same person, perhaps his heart simply recognized it was his other mate and was missing him. Sadly, Panthera tended to butt heads with one of the guests he had invited, so he had begrudgingly stayed home only because he knew how important this meeting was.

Grimmjow shook his head. "I'm afraid he was needed elsewhere tonight, though I will make sure he knows he was missed," he promised. Ugh, his brother will never let this down once he hears how much the boy missed him.

Isidore nodded, understanding that mystic creatures and immortals would have their own duties and places to be, and resumed marveling at the beautiful space. "Still … this place is incredible! Where are we?" he asked.

The primordial god grinned. "This is a special location for meetings just like this. Unfortunately, humans are not really allowed to enter the heavens without an overwhelming majority rule, so this world was created as a compromise for humans and immortals while also creating a sense of privacy. The human world tends to have too many distractions," he explained.

Isidore giggled as his hand was tickled by some curious fish as he dipped his hand into the clear, tepid water. "I fear this place might be more distracting than where we were first … it's so beautiful," he said in awe as he gazed upon a waterfall in the distance, surrounding by vividly colored flowers he has never seen before.

He heard a feminine giggle from behind him and stiffened in surprise. Too startled to move, Isidore held still.

He could hear Grimmjow chuckling in the background as well. "Took you took long enough to show up. I would have been disappointed if you were late," he seemed to be teasing whomever it was.

Standing up slowly, the farmer carefully turned around, but upon seeing who was before him was stunned back into stillness.

' _It couldn't be … could it?'_ He thought to himself in awe and wonder, eyes wide with both excitement and shock. He knew that face, he had remembered that beautiful sun kissed skin and the pure black hair that had framed her still very youthful and beautiful face. It was …

"Lady Athena," he whispered breathlessly. His patron goddess smiled and it was such a glorious sight.

"I have been looking forward to this meeting ever since Grimmjow told me about you, Isidore Karousakis of Kamarina," she said, bowing her head just a fraction. Isidore quickly made to bow down in respect but she laughed and stopped him. "Please don't. I'm more honored to be in your presence than I am to be worshipped by you." She insisted before looking at Grimmjow.

"Grimmjow is not a very social god, so it is nice to see him getting along with someone. Not to mention it is such a momentous achievement to find one's soulmate," she added kindly.

Isidore's mouth was dry; he simply could not find the words he wanted to say, and how many there were! He wanted to thank her for her protection, ask if she recognized him from when he was a child … all the thoughts were spinning around in his head and he felt as though he could faint.

Another woman giggled from behind her. "Ah yes, he had chosen you as his patron goddess, didn't he? Grimmjow, were you not the one who said his olives were some of the best you've ever eaten?" the unknown tall woman with shimmering silver hair asked.

Grimmjow nodded. "Absolutely. I even brought a few jars of his olive oil for you to enjoy," he added, pulling out two familiar jars. Isidore was still so stunned he was unable to feel touched that Grimmjow had even kept the jars.

Athena turned stern to her companion and Grimmjow. "Give him some space! This is probably the most gods and goddesses he has ever seen in his mortal life," she chastised, causing the silver haired women to back away.

Somehow finding the words to speak, Isidore turned a bright red and bowed his head. "It is … such an honor to be in your presence as well …" he managed, shyly ducking his head at her soft chuckle. "We have … actually met before when I was a child." He managed.

Her eyes widened. "Oh? One would think I would remember such a shining star among the humans of Crete. Hmm … but I rarely visit Kamarina when I visit the human world …" she mused, trying to recall where she could have met him.

He grinned. "I was a young boy travelling to Syracuse with my father when I met you," he explained sheepishly.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "So that's where you were from. I remember … you were so small, clutching your father's tunic whilst he argued with a rival olive oil trader." She mused with a smile.

Isidore stood up straighter in his happiness; she actually remembered him! "Yes! I am so honored to once again be in your presence … Grimmjow, thank you so much for this incredible opportunity." He turned to the previously ignored god, who was more amused than anything.

"You admired her so much it only felt right to introduce you. But there is another one I thought you would like to meet," he gestured to the tall woman. "This woman is what you Greeks call Asclepius the Healer." He introduced while she giggled.

The farmer could not help but gawk despite a small voice in his head warning that it was impolite. "Asclepius … is a woman?" he repeated dumbly, rather shocked before blushing at his rude remark. The three gods laughed.

"It's quite alright … I am quite used to the mistake," she insisted kindly. "I prefer to be called Jinn though by my friends. Please feel free to refer to me as such if you would like." She suggested.

Grimmjow smirked; she insisted everyone call her Jinn if she ever met them, it was not as high an honor to be given her true name like it was for other gods. But it would mean the world to his little soulmate.

Sure enough, Isidore bowed his head in respect, smiling just as brightly. "I thank you, Lady Jinn. You saved my mother's life. I could never possibly repay you for what you did for my family."

The healer laughed. "Oh, isn't he just the sweetest?" she cooed, causing him to blush. The two women tittered over him, causing him to stutter until Grimmjow came to his rescue.

"Ladies … what happened to giving him some space?" he reminded as he pulled the flustered mortal protectively to his chest. They giggled at his patronizing look, with Athena telepathically mocking him for how head over heels he already was.

Jinn brightened up. "Oh yeah! Grimmjow, you said had some of his olive oil with you? I'd love to try some." She insisted, with Athena nodded enthusiastically.

As Grimmjow obliged the two goddesses, Isidore fretted to himself, still unable to get over meeting his idols. Then he was left a little nervous about how the goddess of olives herself would feel about the oil he laboriously nurtured and prepared over the last year.

Athena casually raised her hand, and a marble table and four chairs burst from the lush ground. The gods wasted no time seating themselves while Isidore was left stunned at the display of power.

"Ooooh, it's such a lovely color," Jinn praised as she summoned some of her own freshly baked bread from her home. Aside from being the greatest medicinal healer in the world, the goddess also knew how to bake.

"Wait until you try it," Grimmjow insisted as he pulled the frozen farmer into the chair next to him, running a hand down his back soothingly. Perhaps he should have gone slow and introduced Jinn first, he thought in amusement. The poor boy was so nervous in front of the woman he had prayed to every day and night for the last ten or more years of his life.

The boy in question jolted and bowed his head as Jinn broke the bread into four equal pieces. "I truly hope you are satisfied with the oil, Lady Jinn and Lady Athena. I spent several months ensuring its purity and freshness." He managed, though his hands shook under the table.

' _Lady Athena is about to try MY olive oil!_ ' he thought to himself gleefully before another thought came to him. ' _I'M about to eat a meal with Asclepius the Healer and the great Athena herself_!'

Jinn cheerfully thanked him for his hard work before she popped her olive oil slathered piece into her mouth. Athena simply gave that beautiful smile he had been awestruck by as a child before delicately taking a bite of her own.

Isidore squirmed nervously in his seat for the two seconds it took for the girls to response. Jinn sighed dreamily as she swallowed. "Ahhh … it's so fragrant and sweet!" she praised. Athena's eyes lit up and she took a much larger bite, closing her eyes to savor the taste.

"Indeed, it has to be one of the purest tasting olive oils I have ever had offered by a mortal. This is incredibly similar in taste to the groves I grow myself." She revealed with a bright smile before looking to him. "You truly are an incredibly disciple of mine, worthy of the name. Please, call me by MY true name; Sunnera." She said.

Isidore felt as though he could walk on air in that moment; they loved it. As a farmer who loved what he did and fruits that he grew, there could be no greater honor than to be praised by the very goddess he prayed to for delicious fruit every year.

He squeezed Grimmjow's hand, which had snuck under the table upon noticing how nervous his soulmate was. "Thank you so much for your kind words … Lady Sunnera." He breathed out; his eyes bright with happiness.

The four continued talking about anything and anything throughout the rest of the night, with Isidore notably getting more confident in himself to share his own stories and questions with every passing minute.

Throughout it all, Isidore would occasionally lean into Grimmjow or brush shoulders, hands or legs. The ancient god smiled as he let the other three dominate the conversation, more than happy just to be near his beloved Isidore.

…..

Alas, night settled in and the mortal felt the beginning urges to rest creep in. Despite trying to withhold his yawn, the farmer could not help but stretch as he got closer to Grimmjow yet again.

Jinn giggled. "We certainly spent quite a lot of time talking, haven't we?" she mused, looking up at the clear starry night. Sunnera nodded, rising from the table.

"This was much more fun than I expected. Thank you for inviting me, Grimmjow," she bowed, showing her respect to her elder. Jinn happily mirrored her gratitude.

The eldest god shrugged. "It's what he would have wanted, so why delay the inevitable? I appreciate you indulging us in this." He insisted, though the proud grin on his face told him he was practically congratulating himself on his clever idea.

Isidore was blissfully unaware and grinned brightly before bowing back. "Absolutely! I hope we can talk again in the near future, Lady Sunnera, Lady Jinn."

The girls again tittered over the polite little mortal when a fifth, uninvited voice cleared its throat.

"My, my … what an interesting little party you set up there … Grimmy." An oily, effeminate voice rang out in the dark. All three gods frowned when an equally effeminate male sauntered out with a haughty look on his face. Unlike the other gods who shone with healthy golden tan skin, he appeared almost sickly pale.

Grimmjow's brows furrowed. "What do you want Lukki? You weren't exactly invited to this meeting," he warned, eyes darkening with his displeasure.

A giggle that oozed fake politeness was barely covered by a slender hand. "Aw … don't you know chaos is rarely invited? And yet, here I am." He teased with a grin.

Something clicked in Isidore's mind. He blinked in surprise. "Are you … Eris, the goddess of chaos?" he asked in bewilderment.

The god's face scrunched up in distaste at being addressed by the mortal. "Do I look like a woman to you … mortal?" he dared, pale purple eyes narrowing dangerously.

Before Isidore could shrink back and stutter out his apology for speaking out of turn, Grimmjow pulled him behind him and glowered at the god. "As a matter of fact, you do." He snarked, protecting his fragile mate. "Fuck off, Lukki … you so much as dream of anything that harms him and I'll remind you why I am not someone to cross."

Lukki was known for his unpredictability, which came with his gift, of course, but also spelled a lot of risk for anyone who crossed his path. Lukki has clashed with Grimmjow and Panthera, but truthfully, he only feared the latter.

The god of chaos pursed his lips, seemingly disappointed. "Aw, but I wanted to take a good look at your … _mortal_ soulmate … that everyone's been gossiping about," he whined, heavily stressing the adjective with snake like eyes.

Sunnera glared alongside Grimmjow while Jinn cowered with Isidore. "His mortality will hardly be an issue when the Fates grant him immortality, Lukki. You can keep your distain for mortals to yourself." She sneered, bending low as if to prepare for a fight.

Now Lukki took a step back. If Sunnera, the warrior goddess herself, wanted to fight it could spell a world of pain for him. "Alright, alright … I just wanted to see what was so special about him," he insisted with his palms in the air while taking a hard look at the nervous farmer. He smirked before he turned his back to the group. "To be honest, I don't see all the appeal. Enjoy your _soulmate_ , Grimmmmy~" he cooed, before disappearing into the blackness.

Grimmjow's lip curled. "Tch, what a terrible way to end our evening," he muttered, with Jinn and Sunnera echoing their displeasure.

Isidore swallowed thickly. "Who … who was that?" he whispered, terrified by the look of hatred in the god's eyes.

Jinn sighed in exasperation. "That was indeed the god of chaos, though we all know him as Lukki," she explained as she shivered. "He loves to cause trouble wherever he goes. Comes with the gift I suppose, but he really loves to especially make my job harder by experimenting with human illnesses. If its potent enough, it takes several months for even I to come up with a true cure." She explained darkly.

Grimmjow snorted, pressing Isidore close to him again. "Let him try anything … I'm not just the god who creates the heavenly air we breathe." He muttered just as forebodingly before looking at his young lover. "I don't trust him at all, so if you notice anything that seems suspicious do not hesitate to call for me." He insisted, urgency written all over his face.

The mortal nodded before clearing his throat. "I will. I would hate to end our night after such a rude interruption, so I think it would be best to ignore him and think only of the good time we had tonight." He said firmly with a smile.

All three gods felt their own anger wash away with his determined words. Sunnera chuckled. "So forceful this one … he is definitely the one for you, Grimmjow." She teased. The god in question snorted with a proud grin.

"Obviously, but we've delayed the inevitable long enough. It's time to bring him home. Good night girls." He said with a wave. The two goddesses cheerfully waved goodbye as the elder god teleported his lover back to the human world.

Once again, they landed outside his house and Grimmjow sighed. "I'm so sorry your meeting with the girls was soured by Lukki, but other than that, I hope you enjoyed yourself." He apologized, only to be stunned when Isidore shook his head vigorously.

"I couldn't be happier! You allowed me to talk to my patron goddess as well as the goddess who healed my mother! I cannot imagine a greater gift than tonight." He argued, leaning in close to Grimmjow's warmth before chuckling. "I fear there may be no way to top this consortship gift," he teased lightly.

Unbeknownst to him, this made Grimmjow nervous. ' _Shit … he's right. What else could I possibly offer to encourage him to accept me as his mate after something like this_?' he fretted to himself before red orange hair tickled his chin. The god looked down to see Isidore still smiling at him.

"So I guess there is no other choice but to cut the courtship trials short," he added, a gentle blush gracing his cheeks.

Grimmjow's immortal heart stuttered before hammering in his chest. With eyes full of excitement, he lifted the mortal's chin. "Isidore Karousakis … are you accepting me as your immortal soulmate?" he asked carefully.

As much as he wanted this, he needed to warn the farmer now that once he was made into an immortal, there would be no turning back. He wouldn't want him to make this decision rashly and grow to hate him later.

Isidore thought for less than a minute and nodded. "I am," he vowed, daring to reach up and kiss him sweetly. "I have never been so happy in my life than in the time I met you. I would be an utter fool to refuse you as my soulmate."

Warmth flooded through Grimmjow's chest and he crushed the mortal close to his chest and claimed his lips in a deeper, soul searing kiss. The two broke apart unable to tear their eyes off one another.

"I can have you immortalized once I get in touch with the Fates," he promised, only to frown when Isidore shook his head.

"That, I think, should still wait until Gamelion," he offered gently. "I would like a chance to finish any affairs I may have, as well as see about protecting my family."

Grimmjow hummed in approval. That was rather rational; he would want to make sure his family either joined him in immortality or spend as much time with them as he could. Grimmjow could understand and respect that.

Very well. Two more months was trivial after all the waiting he has done, not to mention it was impressive that he was able to convince Isidore after less than a month. He brushed a stray hair out of Isidore's face lovingly.

"That can certainly be arranged. For now, I will go about preparing for the day nonetheless. There are other things I would like to share with you as well before you turn immortal anyways just to make sure there are no regrets." He added.

He was going to have to introduce Panthera faster than he expected, he sighed to himself, but he knew his brother would be thrilled, so it wouldn't be an issue. Still, he was going to have to talk with Pan tonight to make sure they had everything planned out properly.

He smirked, remembering something. "Also, just because tonight was the best gift you have received, does not mean I will stop showering you with more." He teased, causing his humble mate to fidget.

"Ahh … please don't trouble yourself; you have given me so much already!" he insisted with a frown. Grimmjow laughed and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"Not a chance!" he swore before he nudged him toward the door. "Get some rest, Isidore … I love you." He added softly.

Warmth swelled in the mortal's chest. "And I you, Grimmjow. Goodnight."

…

 **AN: Woooooooow! That took forever! Thank you for your patience, I have the next chapter planned out so hopefully it will be ready soon. But for now, Ciao~!**

 **Lukki/Eris – Luppi**

 **Merci/Hestia – Miyako Shiba**


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